Sundance
by weddersins
Summary: The One-Shot-That-Wasn't. The Doctor pushes the reset button, hard. Willfully, gleefully AU. This started off as a one-shot, but I'm not sure these guys are done yet. Doctor/Rose, with a nice mix of both 9&10 :
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: anyone who reads fanfiction knows that I own nothing. This started off as a small drabble while I was at work and grew into something much bigger than that. I've uploaded what I have, but I'm not entirely sure the Doctor and Rose are going to let me leave it like this. We shall see. Enjoy!_

Looking back, really looking at the moment where he changed the course of their lives forever, he would never be quite sure why he did it. Maybe it was the desperation in her eyes, her hands reaching for him, her golden hair haloing her face as she slipped towards the Void would burn in his mind forever. His fault - all his fault, once again. Jackie would never know how right she was. Rose; brilliant, fantastic Rose, had chosen him over her family, over safety and a normal life, and she would no longer get a chance to choose again. He had killed her, just as surely as he killed his people. She would be swallowed by the Void, her spirit, her essential, well, Rose-ness, would be crushed and changed and destroyed. She would be beyond his reach forever.

He could not bear it. With a mere nanosecond's worth of calculation, the Doctor let go of his hold on the clamp, and pushed off of the wall with all of his might. If he was lucky - very, very lucky - he might just be able to reach her. To grasp her hand. He had to try. He couldn't let her fall away from him without trying to save her. He owed her that, at least. No thoughts were in his head but of Rose. He wondered, briefly, when he had stopped caring only for the overall good and began caring for her instead. A flash of 10 Downing Street, the threat of a missile strike that would save the world but would mean he would lose Rose. Perhaps then. He had been lucky, then.

She saw him, and turned her body to try and grasp his hand, trying to stop her fall as much as possible. She was mouthing something, but he could not hear her over the sound of his hearts hammering in his ears. Time had slowed to a crawl. Every beat of his hearts, of her heart, felt as if it could be their last. Luck was with him today, it seemed. He felt her warm hand in his, and he pulled her towards him with all of his strength. She wrapped her arms around him, like she always did. She clung to him like a lifeline, and he could feel her heartbeat racing in her chest. She was terrified. The overwhelming whiteness of the Void was reflected in her eyes, and he buried his head in her golden hair as they crossed the barrier. What was beyond was unknown, but he found himself unable to care. They would go together.

Rose almost cried with relief when she saw the Doctor leap towards her. He would have a plan - somehow, he would get them out of this. He always had before. Every time the chips had been down, he had somehow pulled off an impossible-seeming scheme and rode to the rescue - sometimes literally. Despite her near unshakeable faith in him, Rose could not rid herself of the little niggle of doubt. That he didn't have a plan, and that his leap towards her was not calculated at all, that they would both simply vanish into the great white expanse behind her, and that would be that. The words the devil had spoken on Krop Tor thundered in her ears, and her stomach plummeted. She had doomed them both. She clamped down on that feeling, willing it away from her. It would cease to matter when they crossed that boundary behind them. Stretching as far as she could, she grasped the Doctor's cool hand in hers, and pulled herself towards him with all of her strength. Buying herself an extra second wrapped in his strong arms before her life was over. Their lives were over. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Rose tangled her fingers in his dark brown hair as she nuzzled her head into his neck. She didn't want to watch. The whiteness overtook them, and the last thing Rose saw was brown pinstripes. She smiled. It was, she considered, a good last thing to see.

The Doctor held the unconscious body of his companion in his arms, as he picked his way carefully through the pure junk that littered the white expanse where they had ended up. He wasn't even sure where "here" was, and was unwilling to assign it a title yet. They were nowhere, really. Outside of time. Everything was white, pure white. The floor, he supposed it was, echoed his footsteps, and there was light coming from somewhere - though he couldn't tell where. He could have been walking on a treadmill, for all he knew. There was no real sense of movement or progress. It would have been completely disorienting had there not been Cybermen and Dalek parts scattered haphazardly around. Literal mountains of debris that he had blown into this space were piled around them. None of them had survived. He was, frankly, surprised that the two of them had. He had supposed, being a Time Lord, that existing in a space that was not governed by time would be problematic - perhaps even explosive - but it seemed that he had fared the journey better than Rose. He glanced down at the girl in his arms, and allowed himself a small, sad smile. She was alive, even if she was unaware of her surroundings. Perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps not. He missed her, oh he missed her. She would have had her warm hand inside of his, trusting him to find a way out. She would have some sort of comment that would focus him. He was unwilling to admit to himself that all he was doing was wandering. He knew, rationally, that there would be no way out of the Void. Especially after losing the TARDIS. His head twinged, as hard as it had the first time he had thought of his missing ship while in this wasteland. His psyche was desperately searching for the psychic connection with his ship. It was gone. Completely gone. He staggered, suddenly overwhelmed by the silence in his head. He panted, staring hard at his scuffed white trainers as he tried to put the world back into perspective. He was reeling, spinning, listless - like a ship caught in a hurricane. The TARDIS, his constant companion for almost a millennium, was just... Missing from his head. No gentle murmur of reassurance, no almost-laughing glow... Nothing. Sweat rolled down his nose. He began compartmentalising as best he was able. Behind several large, locked doors went his loneliness, his despair and his guilt. There would be either be another time and another place for dealing with those, or there would not be. They would not do him any good here.

Shifting Rose in his arms, he plodded on aimlessly. It was not in his nature to readily admit defeat, but it was staring him in the face. They were trapped, and Rose would die. Not for the first time, Gallifrey burned behind his eyes as he took another staggering step forward. Murderer.

After thirty five minutes, six seconds more of aimless wandering, he sat down on the hard white floor, leaning against the body of a Cyberman. He arranged Rose carefully in his lap, balanced between his knees as to better support her. She was still boneless, limp, lifeless. Her breath ghosting against his neck and her faint, thready pulse were the only two signs that Rose was even still alive. He bowed his head, leaning his cheek against her soft hair and settled her more comfortably in his arms. He murmured apologies to her, over and over again half hoping she would hear them and wake. Unconsciously, he rubbed slow circles on her forearm with his thumb. Rose remained still, and he knew it was his fault. All his fault. He stared at the destruction around them, knowing this was no dream but willing himself to wake up all the same. This time, they would find no way out.


	2. Chapter 2

_He murmured apologies to her, over and over again half hoping she would hear them and wake. Unconsciously, he rubbed slow circles on her forearm with his thumb. Rose remained still, and he knew it was his fault. All his fault. He stared at the destruction around them, knowing this was no dream but willing himself to wake up all the same. This time, they would find no way out._

Rose came to awareness gradually. She had no sense of where they were, no sense of the passage of time. Her back hurt, and her legs were cramping painfully. Her muscles resisted any attempts to move them, and she waited impatiently for the pins-and-needles to subside. Opening her eyes, she was once again greeted by brown pinstripes. She managed a weak grin. Her Doctor was here. He must have felt her stir, trying to stretch her cramped muscles, because he was instantly alert and resettling her into a more comfortable position. "Rose..." he whispered, his voice laced with urgency, and she nodded weakly.

Leaning her head back against his chest, the twin beat of his hearts comforting her, she reached for his hand. "'m here, s'kay. 'm fine." Her mouth felt like she had stuffed it full of marbles and cotton. She had woken up from all-night bar crawls feeling better than this!

The Doctor ran his thumb over her hand, and stared into the white expanse before them. "Oh Rose, I am so sorry." He intoned, looking back down at her. Pain and rage and hurt shone in his eyes, and Rose felt it like knife in her chest.

"Stop it. Don't you dare." She whispered, struggling to sit up more fully. He moved his legs to accommodate her, and she settled herself into the hollow of his body, leaning against his chest. The twin beats of his hearts leapt into staccato, but Rose found no energy to smile at his physical reaction to her proximity. He threw his arm around her shoulders, and she snugged her body securely next to his. He seemed unwilling to lose contact with her, as if she would disappear if he did not have a firm enough grasp on her. Perhaps she would, she mused. She had no idea where they were, exactly. Maybe he was their only link to existence. Maybe he was what kept her here. It didn't matter.

"Stop apologizing, Doctor. You tried to make me go with Mum." a pang, another knife stab in her chest. "I chose you. I will always choose you. I promised you forever, don't you remember? I don't make promises lightly." She turned her face towards him, and smiled as brightly as she could manage. Scared as she was, she still meant it. Her voice was thready and weak, and her breath came in little panting gasps. Her chest felt heavy and sluggish, and she was aware of every beat of her heart. Her temples throbbed and her vision spun, and she weakly laid her head against the Doctor's chest. She was so tired. "'s my fault anyways. You shouldn't have 'ad to jump after me. Lost my grip. My fault. Shoulda held on."

The Doctor shook his head, squeezing her shoulder. "Not your fault, Rose. Should have had a better plan. Should have planned for something to go wrong." Should have guessed their luck would run out one day.

Rose tilted her head upwards, giving him another small, weak smile. Like a stray kitten in a shoebox. "We needed seatbealts."

Her smile melted like ice in his stomach. Her eyes shone full of trust and understanding. Oh, Rose. Mentally steeling himself, he greeted her smile with a bright, if false, one of his own. "Right you are, Rose Tyler." He said softly. The corners of her eyes crinkled, and he planted a kiss on her forehead and grinned at her momentary jolt of surprise. Boundaries, he scoffed, like they would matter now. The walls he had carefully constructed to keep her out of his head and hearts were falling rapidly. They were useless. He had torn them down himself, the moment when he had chosen to follow her into the unknown. Something he would deal with later - if and when later came. For now, he would enjoy the minutes he was stealing with this fantastic girl. Gently stretching out with his mind, he brushed the surface of her psyche and began checking her vital signs. He worried about her heart. She seemed pale, and tired, and very much unlike herself. Rather indicative of heart problems.

"Feeling alright, then?" He asked, gently tilting her face towards his. He refrained from wincing at the pallor of her skin, but just barely. Rose was fading fast.

Rose smiled up at the Doctor, trying to put as much reassurance into the gesture as possible. "I'm okay. Just… very tired." Her heart skipped a beat, and her face betrayed her discomfort at the fluttering in her chest.

The Doctor frowned. He fumbled with his free hand for the sonic screwdriver, mentally reminding himself to take a travel through his pockets. There were things in there even he wasn't sure of. Closing his long fingers around the silver instrument with a minimum of searching, he began to scan Rose. She closed her eyes and allowed him to work, too tired to put up much of a fight. She sagged against his chest, boneless and breathless. The Doctor frowned at the readings from the sonic, and tried to put on a bright smile for Rose.

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much. Stuck between worlds, us. Bound to take a bit of a toll on the corporeal form." Rose's heart was giving out. He knew that she shouldn't have been able to survive the trip into the Void – not for this length of time, at least. Perhaps her time spent as the Bad Wolf had granted her some measure of safety – but whatever it had provided her with was not going to last much longer. If he didn't get Rose out of here… the Doctor swallowed, unable to finish his thought. He couldn't lose her now. Not after all this. He clamped down on the panic rising in his chest, fighting for control of his mind. He did not have the luxury of succumbing to his feelings, not this time. Not ever.

"Rose?" he asked, softly. He had nothing. No plan, no magical way of saving the day.

Rose opened her eyes, and blinked lazily, unable to focus. "Yes, Doctor?" She whispered, trying to keep her irritation at being awoken out of her voice. She just couldn't shake this tiredness… why wouldn't he let her sleep? She knew that she would feel so much better after a nap.

"Listen to me Rose, and listen to me well. Do you trust me, Rose Tyler?" He needed to hear her voice, hear her say those words. If he believed in anything, it was her, but he needed her to believe in him, too. His face was deadly serious, and roused Rose a bit from her stupor.

"'Course, Doctor. With m'life." She shook her head, trying to clear it. So foggy, so tired…

He watched her eyes flutter closed, and prayed a silent prayer to whatever Being listened to Time Lords that she could stay with him, just for a little while longer. He wasn't ready to lose her just yet. "Then we need to get moving. I think I have a way out of here, but you're going to have to do exactly as I say. Do you understand me, Rose?" He lied through his teeth. He spoke calmly, but inside a tempest was raging. His hearts were thundering in his ears, and his stomach was a pit of ice.

"Of course I do, Doctor." Her voice seemed more normal, even to her ears. She wiggled a bit, trying to get the pins and needles in her feet to subside. She felt weak and tired, but if the Doctor felt that moving was better than sitting and waiting, well then, she would have to shift, wouldn't she? She had got them into this awful mess anyways. Rose shut away that unproductive train of thought. She had more important things to focus on right now.

Abruptly, the Doctor leapt to his feet, being careful not to let go of Rose's hand. He was still unsure of how and why they were here, but he was not sure that their body contact wasn't what was keeping Rose from ending up like the poor sod who's metal body they were using for a couch. Not going to risk it. Besides, if he was being honest with himself, her hand in his was reassuringly normal. "Right then. First things first. We look around." He wouldn't tell her that he had spent an hour and some change doing exactly that while she was unconscious. No need to dash her hopes. Besides, she might see something he had missed. Wouldn't be the first time, though he would never admit that to her. Better that way, he reasoned, though he couldn't understand why it would be. He helped her to her feet, carefully hiding his amusement as she wobbled about like a baby deer first finding their legs. Smiling a smile he hoped reached his eyes, he led her off, away from where they had come. The Doctor watched Rose as she stared in amazement at the piles of Daleks and Cybermen. He absently kicked an eyestalk out of their path. She was slow, and her footsteps were unsteady, but the light exercise was helping her to maintain a regular heart rate, even if her breathing was still more ragged then he would like. His mind was racing, plans formulating and falling apart behind his ancient eyes, his mouth set in a grim line.

After twenty six minutes, forty nine seconds of aimless wandering, a flicker of a plan - a risky, dangerous, foolish plan - hung on stubbornly in the corner of his mind. It was worth a shot. It was better than nothing. The Doctor turned to face his companion with "Right then! I'm not going to lie, Rose. We're stuck. Pretty damn well stuck actually. But," he preened, flashing a toothy grin he didn't really feel, "you've got me, and my brilliant mind has devised an equally brilliant plan." Lies, again. He just didn't want her to be afraid, especially if these were their last moments together. He didn't want the last thing she felt to be the same panic in his chest. Something else, too - something was off. He turned again to his sonic screwdriver, twirling it between his fingers while he tried to place the extra niggle of discomfort he was feeling.

Rose smiled patiently. He would come to his point eventually, once he (and, well, she) had satisfied his ever-present need for the dramatic. She swung their joined hands back and forth as she took in their surroundings. Daleks and Cybermen littered the landscape, which is really the only thing that gave the Void a sense of scale. She was surprised she didn't see much else, actually. Shouldn't there be... something?

"Doctor, why are we the only living things here? I mean, shouldn't there be, like, Void-creatures or something? Or more Cybermen? They managed to cross between universes this way, wouldn't some of them have stayed behind or survived like we did?" she asked, biting her lip and looking around. Something just felt... Off. Like a half-formed thought that was forgotten when you walked into another room. Worry itched in the back of her mind, and Rose glanced about warily.

"Smart girl you are, always said so." the Doctor mumbled distractedly while scanning with the sonic. "Came to my second point for me. More importantly, my next instruction is to run!" tightening his grip on her small hand, he spun them around and took off in another direction. Rose could hear a terrible screech of metal on metal, and chanced a look behind her. Disassembled Cybermen were slowly staggering to their feet (if any remained) and began shuffling after them. Legs hopped independent of their former owners, and arms crawled along after them. If she hadn't been running for her life, she might have laughed.

"Doctor, what is that?" she shrieked, trying to keep the hammering of her heart under control. She felt woozy, worse than before, and fought hard against the blackening around the edges of her vision as she was dragged through the towering piles of semi-senescent refuse. Thankfully, it seemed that only what was already behind them was coming alive.

"I'm not sure - does it matter?" The Doctor called back to her, leaping over a Dalek body. Rose nearly tripped doing the same thing, and felt the bile rising in her stomach as nausea crept up on her.

"It could! Couldn't it?" Rose cried, dodging an arm that was grasping for her ankle. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably - so hard she could feel it behind her eyes. She couldn't keep doing this much longer. She opened her mouth to call out for him, drawing in a lungful of air that just didn't seem like it would be enough. She gagged, coughing and gasping.

"Doctor! Doctor I can't - " Rose stumbled, unable to catch her breath. Her heart thudded once, twice in her ears, loudly, then stopped. She gasped for breath, wheezing and panicky, her fingers clawing at her chest. It felt like someone had set a spaceship on her abdomen and forgotten about it. Her left arm burned like fire, and Rose crumpled slowly to the ground. The Doctor watched her fall, paralyzed, his face a rictus of horror.

Tears streamed down her face, and the Doctor gathered Rose into his arms as quickly as possible. She was pale, and the tiny squeak of a laborious breath bubbled from her lungs. Her heart rate was erratic, and at least a third of what it should be. She was dying - Rose was dying. And there was nothing he could do. Independent of any conscious thought of his, he began to run. His long legs pumped and his gasps for breath echoed Rose's has he tried to keep her as steady as possible. With a speed he hadn't known he was capable of, he reached a mostly open area and gently laid her down on the smooth white floor. Her hair fanned out beneath her, and her eyes remained closed. He could feel her breaths against the back of his hand growing shallower by the minute. Tilting her head back to clear her airway, the Doctor grabbed the sonic, using it to shock her chest once, twice, three times. He bent down, pressing head against her chest between each shock, desperate to hear the sound of her heartbeat. No normal sinus rhythm. Nothing he could do. Nothing he could do the save Rose. Too late. Their luck truly had run out. He laughed, mirthlessly, desperation making him shake. The disassembled bodies of the Cybermen were now joined by Daleks, cries of 'Delete' and 'Exterminate' rang in his ears as he stared at the lifeless body of his best friend. He had some time before they would reach him, but not much. Not enough.

He looked at the pale girl lying on the stark, white floor. His panic threatened to make him irrational, but he held on to a faint flicker of hope. He had a way to get Rose out. He always had, but he had dismissed it too risky. If he made one false move, the universes that this Void straddled would collapse, and he would doom every living being to death. His rational mind knew this was foolishness. He must be hysterical with grief to even consider this course of action. But he couldn't watch Rose die. Not after all she had done for him. Looked into the heart of the TARDIS for him, she had. Almost killed herself in her desperation to return to him, to save his life. Would have killed herself, the stupid ape, if he hadn't taken Time out of her head, and absorbed the damage done to her own body into his. But she had saved him, over and over again, in so many ways. How could he not do the same for her? He could hear the echoes of the voices of his teachers from long ago, begging him not to do such a thing. He knew he had no right to be so attached to this girl. He should let her die, and allow the Cybermen and Daleks to avenge themselves on him. Good of the many.

But this time, this one time, he chose to save his own soul. And with it, the dying human girl who had returned it to him in the first place.

Besides. He was... pretty sure this plan would work.

He gathered Rose in his arms, and curled her body as close to his own as possible. Reaching out with his mind, he found their timelines. Something he had been trained, for years, to ignore. It wasn't good to know so much. His line was long and dark, punctuated nine times by a sharp flash of huon fire. Hers was short - painfully short, but part of his couldn't help but grin at her own flash of huon. Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth. Their lines were bound together for longer than he might have expected, the mingling of colours a sight to behold. Where is line was almost monochromatic, Rose's was the color of an early spring, all muted greens and pinks and blues, punctuated by the golden of sunlight. Her line was already starting to fade away - a ghostly echo of his own strong line. Further on down their paths, it had already started to evaporate.

Ignoring his awe at the stream of events, he continued his search for just the right time. He tried to ignore the specifics as much as possible as he scanned them for a section that would suit his purposes. He grinned, manically, as he found one. Possibilities flickered and burned inside his eyes, as he viewed one version after another of their futures. He could hear the cries of the Daleks and Cybermen growing louder and louder, and knew he was out of time. He buried his face in Rose's hair, breathing the cocoanut smell of her shampoo. With a quick prayer for forgiveness to whomever was listening, the Doctor wrapped his fingers around the fabric of time. And then he pulled.


	3. Chapter 3

_With a quick prayer for forgiveness to whomever was listening, the Doctor wrapped his fingers around the fabric of time. And then he pulled._

The Doctor slowly came to awareness in a swirling Vortex, not entirely unlike the one the TARDIS used. Rose was cradled tightly to his chest, one of his arms supporting her back and the other under her knees. With her head leaning against his shoulder, he could feel her heartbeat, weak but steady, and her breaths against his neck were even and not forced. He could have cried in relief. It had worked! He had really done it. But they were by no means in the home stretch. For the first time, he noticed the images swirling around them, dancing and flickering and flitting, just out of his reach. He could see Rose, surrounded by children, laughing as they ran around a small bedroom. She turned to him and smiled. He watched a younger Rose and a strangely familiar man wearing a dark leather jacket running down an empty sidewalk in the middle of the night. It looked like London - he thought he saw the London Eye in the background. That was the very first day they had met! He could see the two of them zipping about in the TARDIS - according to the settings he glimpsed, they were headed for Barcelona. The scenes that were playing out before him were innumerable. So many possibilities, so many futures for the two of them. He smiled fondly at some other scenes from their past adventures, trying and failing not to linger on the replay of Rose kissing his helmet before he descended to the planet's surface at Krop Tor. Their faces weaved in and out around him, replaying old chases, reliving pleasant memories, forging new connections. He watched in fascinated silence as a slightly older Rose held a baby with a shock of brown hair, and something inside of his head twinged, painfully.

"Doctor... That's us!" Rose was awake, and completely flabbergasted. Her jaw was slack as she stared in amazement at the images that were playing out before her. She could see him - the Doctor, her Doctor! - playing with children, holding her hand while walking down a crowded street, and the two of them - he in his previous incarnation - sitting on a rooftop smiling and happy and seemingly carefree. Better with two.

"That," he pointed to the river of images after setting her down on her own two feet, "is quite literally everything that has happened, could happen, and somewhere in there, will happen, to the two of us." he said, softly. He couldn't look at her - he just stared into space. Would she forgive him for this? Did she even know what he had done, why exactly they were standing inside a swirling hurricane of images dedicated to the two of them?

Rose couldn't look at him. Would he see the flush of her cheeks, the light and joy and longing in her eyes? Watching herself hold a baby - a baby that looked suspiciously like a Time Lord she knew - it was as if all the secret desires that she kept in her heart, all the teenage-girl-ness she had tried desperately to keep hidden, had been ripped out without her permission and put on display, in the most embarrassing manner possible. There may as well have been "Mrs. Rose Smith" floating up there, surrounded by a forest of hand-drawn, cartoon hearts. She couldn't look at him. What would he think if he knew that she had dreamed all these up? He never wanted to be domestic, he had told her a hundred times if he had told her once. She had no right to even think about capturing him and forcing him to settle down - clipping his wings - not after all he had done for her. She chanced a glance at him, just to gauge his reaction. He didn't even notice her staring at him - he was transfixed by the contents of the air around them. Their impossible, imagined futures, reflected in his ancient eyes. She winced, brushing the hair out of her eyes in a futile attempt to cover up the motion, but he still noticed. His eyes narrowed with concern, and he tilted her chin up towards him. "Are you alright? Feeling a bit better, yeah?" he didn't smile. In fact, he looked a little terrified.

"I'm fine, Doctor." Rose smiled, a real smile this time. The warm pressure of his fingers on her chin was welcome contact. "I'm much better. What was that, what caused me to pass out like that? What was chasing us?" he opened his mouth to respond, and she could almost see a smart remark on the tip of his tongue. The glint in his eye was a dead giveaway. "I mean, besides Cybermen. I've got eyes, you know. And for that matter, where are we?" She took another look around, and her eyes latched onto the sight of a brunette toddler running across a lawn full of apple grass, as ships flew about in the background. New Earth - it had to be. She smirked, remembering the hour they had spent lying amount the grass, talking and laughing. A lifetime had passed since then.

"The Daleks and Cyberman - I'm honestly not sure. Could be any number of things, but since we're never ever going back there ever, I am going to try to forget that ever happened." He grinned, and Rose giggled. "In regards to you..." The Doctor's eyes darkened. He debated against telling her, but he knew there was no reason to hide it from her, really. Too smart for her own good. "The Void was causing your heart to give out." he said, at length. She didn't have much of a reaction to this news, just a tilt of her head and a sharp blink, a narrowing of the eyes. The light from the vignettes swirling around them played on the curves of her face, and tinted her blue jumper a kaleidoscope of colors. "I tried... I used the sonic to try and stop it, but you were..." he swallowed thickly. The word 'dead' hung heavy in the air between them, but he was having problems finishing the sentence. Maybe it didn't need saying.

Rose sensed his discomfort and grabbed his hand in her own. It was cool to her touch - something she would never be truly used to. "I'm here, though. I'm fine." she smiled, trying hard to be reassuring. Without much warning, he swept her into a bone-crushing hug. He held onto her tightly, desperately, like she could disappear any second. She held him just as close, tangling her fingers in his ever-scruffy hair. His scent filled her senses, and she luxuriated in it - machine oil, bergamot, old books. A faint whiff of banana. His twin heartbeats pattered along reassuringly against her lone beat. Nuzzling her face into his shoulder, she looped small circles with her fingers on the exposed skin of his neck. It was amazing, really, the comfort and security to be obtained from one pair of arms around her.

"Oi! I'm the one what almost died, Doctor, but I think you're more upset than I am!" she had meant for it to lighten the mood, but she could tell it fell flat before it was even out of her mouth. His arms went slack, and he dropped her back down to her feet. He held her at arms length from him, staring at her seriously.

"Of course I am, Rose. You nearly died, because of me, again." Rose began to protest - a familiar mantra when it came to his guilt complex - but he placed a finger over her lips and stared at her till she closed her mouth with a small pop. No sense in arguing with him when he was like this. Rose resisted the very strong temptation to either smack him or kiss him. Either would do.

"Rose, you've been in harm's way since the first day I laid eyes on you. I've dragged you from one dangerous situation to another. We've been in jail more times than I care to remember, the Wire ate your face!" he gestured, wildly, and Rose had to try not to laugh. "A missile landed practically on our heads, we were almost turned into shells for gaseous alien beings to inhabit. And none of that would have happened if I had just left you alone. And you wouldn't be stuck here. You'd be with your mum, and Mickey, and you'd be safe." He mumbled, turning his gaze from Rose and back to the holographic projections dancing around them.

Rose frowned, and turned the Doctor's face back to hers. "Did you even listen to yourself?" she asked, ignoring the sulky look he was giving her. "Almost. Nearly. We're here, Doctor! We survived. We've always managed. Whatever situation we - not you, not me, we - go ' ourselves into we also go' out of. We're here. We made it. Now stop it. I wouldn't trade what we've done for the world. I've seen things no one else gets to see, and I've seen them with you. And that's the best part. Better with two! Remember?" she knocked her knuckles lightly against his temple. "When are you going to understand that I made my choice a long time ago, and I don't ever, ever want to leave you? If I'm meant to die then I want it to be on my feet, running from something, instead of old and comfortable in a home somewhere. I choose this life and everything that comes with it. I choose you!" Rose was panting by the end of her statement, ashamed of her outburst and desperately hoping she had not gone too far.

The Doctor only looked at her, and grinned. "And that's why I could never leave you with your mother, Rose Tyler, no matter how many times I felt I had to for your safety. I'm far too selfish."

The heavy mood lifted as he spun her around and deposited her on her feet again with a grin. "You're here, I'm here, I haven't done a through check yet but all of our bits seem to be in the same place they were when we last saw them," Rose giggled, despite herself, and the Doctor grinned even wider "cheeky girl; and we do have a way to escape the Void."

Rose sat, tailor fashion, on the transparent floor (she figured it for a floor, anyway) and pulled the Doctor down next to her. He settled in with another flash of a smile. It cheered her to see him so grin-y - she knew he would have figured a way out. "So, Doctor," her discomfort at the images surrounding them momentarily forgotten, "whats this about getting home then?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Rose sat, tailor fashion, on the transparent floor (she figured it for a floor, anyway) and pulled the Doctor down next to her. He settled in with another flash of a smile. It cheered her to see him so grin-y - she knew he would have figured a way out. "So, Doctor," her discomfort at the images surrounding them momentarily forgotten, "whats this about getting home then?"_

He sobered again, but just for a moment. "Well, after a fashion. You know that saying, 'You can never go home again'? It's truer than you know." a flash of Gallifrey, unmarked by war, ignited behind his eyes. He stiffened, but brushed it aside quickly enough. "We can't go back. Not to Canary Wharf anyway. We can get back somewhere - or somewhen - close to when we left, if we're very, very lucky. Chances are, we wont. See those images floating about? Course you have, you've got eyes; they represent every possible future we could have, every path we have taken in the past. You see, I, er..." he faltered in his whirlwind explanation, watching the color fade from her face. "As you were, indisposed at the time, I, er... took a rather silly risk. I suppose."

Rose could actually feel the blood drain from her face and pool in her stomach. It was a queer, being-washed-from-the-inside feeling. "Doctor... What exactly did you do?" she fiddled absently with the zipper on her jumper, trying to ignore the tremor in her hands. Why did she have the feeling that she would rather not know the answer? She held on to her faith in him like a beacon. It always turned out all right in the end.

The Doctor rubbed his neck awkwardly and blew out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Now, in the harsh light (well, whatever.) of day, his choice seemed much more foolish than it had when Rose had been gasping for air and hoards of their worst enemies had been descending upon them. He wished, not for the first time and probably not the last, that he had been allowed the time to speak to Rose about this. She had deserved a say in the matter, and she wouldn't get it now. "I pulled us into our timelines, Rose. That's where we are now. This is the web of our experiences together. Like I said before - everything we ever were, what we are, and what we could become. We're in the middle of it." he looked away from her. If he admitted it, he was scared of her reaction. He didn't think he could handle a Jackie-esqe outburst.

Rose wrinkled her forehead, confusion written all over the lines of her face. "What do you mean, we're in our timelines? How is that possible?"

"It's not, exactly. We're lucky I didn't just destroy both universes. For lack of a better analogy, I pushed the reset button. Say, like you were writing a report on a computer and the computer stops working and you have to reboot. The paper you were working on will load, but you don't know where the autosave has left you."

Rose swallowed thickly. Out of instinct, she reached for his hand and gently closed her fingers around it, searching for the reassuring pressure of his grip. There was no answering response from him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he was ashamed of his actions, though she couldn't really understand why. She was mostly relieved that they weren't inside her head, or something equally invasive. "What exactly, does that mean for us? I mean, yeah, we're here. I'm watching you try to spoon feed a toddler, for goodness sake." She pointed to the image flickering above their heads, both child and Doctor covered in orange goo. "But where do we go from here?" her voice quavered a bit, betraying the fear she was trying to hide.

Her question didn't shock him, but her delivery did. If anything, he expected recrimination, panic, anger - not fear. "It means..." he exhaled sharply. "It means that we have to step back in. To our timelines, I mean. And we don't know where it will put us. We - our consciousnesses, really, not us - could go together, we could go separately. You might be a twelve year old again - red bicycle indeed, eh?" he gently elbowed her in the ribs, eliciting a laugh from his companion, "and I could be in any of my previous regenerations. We won't remember... Well, being us. Oh, you'll have a whisper here and there, maybe a flash of some memory, but it won't make sense to you. We just have to keep on living." he looked away from her, finding himself unable to make eye contact with her.

Rose drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the tears wobbling in the corners of her eyes. "When you say go back... Does that mean things will happen the way they did before? If I go back to being twelve, will Mum be there or will she be stuck in Pete's world still?" her hands shook, and she received little comfort from the feeling of his fingers closing around them.

"Yes. Everything up to the point when we return will be the same. Our old choices will stand. That's the reason why we can't go forwards in our timelines - its all still too nebulous, its not well defined enough to take a transfer like this. We can only go back. Which means neither of us will awaken with surprise children." Without thinking, he rubbed a circle with his thumb on the back of her hand. He wished he could draw her into his arms, but he was still not sure of how she would react, despite her declaration just a few minutes prior. He couldn't face the rejection right now.

"So... So we could end up back at Canary Wharf, right before we fall into the Void. Theoretically. Then what? Do we loop, do we do this all over again till we get it right? I mean, are we stuck doing this?" her voice wavered again, and her throat closed up with fear. She needed him to hold her, to tell her it would be alright. But she couldn't make herself reach for him. Not yet.

"Doubtful. Possible, though, but doubtful. See all of our futures, there before us? I have to believe - Time Lord, me, so I do know a bit about this - that if they were not possible at all, if we were totally doomed to repeat this action, then they would no longer exist in any form, not even shadows."

Rose eyed the ghosts above her head, watching yet another image of the two of them, walking around 1960's London. The part of her mind that was trying to pretend this was a dream took a note of her dress. The image changed, morphing into a brunette toddler holding what appeared to be a toy sonic screwdriver. "We are a bit inundated with baby imagery, aren't we?"

She could feel him shrug, apparently unwilling to give her much of an answer. "Just one of many choices." she wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a light blush grace his cheeks.

She lifted her eyebrows as he turned to face her. A faint flicker of amusement was lingering on his lips, but as he saw the somber expression on hers, the Doctor's face fell to match it. "I'm sorry, Rose. You deserved a say in this. I wish I could have told you before. I wish I had. I just, I couldn't watch you die. I had to do something, and this was the only option."

The despair in his voice tugged at Rose's heart, and tears that she thought she had successfully held back spilled from her eyes. It had been a long, long day. Misinterpreting her tears, he pulled his hand away from her and stood up. "I understand -" he choked out, turning himself away from what he was sure was her recriminating stare. He was unable to finish his sentence before Rose launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and crying earnestly.

"You daft man! I'm not angry with you. I'm not. You saved me, so stop blathering on." she gently smacked his shoulder, and she thought she heard him laugh. Rose sniffed, loudly, hating how her voice sounded. All woobly and gross. She knew her mascara would be staining his suit, but couldn't bring herself to care. She could feel his hands gently rubbing her back, and she sobbed again, wet and gasping. "I can handle many things. I've been chased by ghosts, werewolves, people with forehead zippers, murderous Christmas trees; I was exiled by Queen Victoria, Ive watched my planet explode, and I've been desperate and terrified and backed into corners and trapped in morgues. But I can't handle the thought that I would forget you. I can't. I can stand anything - anything at all, but I cant stand the thought that I wouldn't remember you. That maybe our paths wouldn't cross, that you wouldn't want me along if we met again. You're my best friend, you're the best thing that ever happened to me! There has to be a way to control our jump back, there has to be!" her voice dissolved into an agonized whisper as the panic in her chest took over. Rose could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto his brown pinstriped suit. Her heart was breaking, shattering even, and she had no idea what to do.

The Doctor stared into space, letting Rose exhaust her tears as he watched their ghosts dance in the control room of the TARDIS what felt like a lifetime ago. Had been a lifetime ago. "I'm sorry Rose. I'm so sorry. I can't make you remember. I wish I could guarantee that we would be sent back to a time when we were already together. I wish I could, because I swear to you I cant bear the thought of losing you. But I can promise you this. I will find you. We will be together. Past this event, even. I'm sure of it. Look, Rose, look at everything all around you!" he gently disengaged her hug, and turned her to face the section of the wall of images that he was viewing. They were running from something, but it wasn't a place either of them could remember being together. "There are so many places, things, people, experiences that we haven't encountered yet. Not all of them are going to happen, but I'm sure that some of them will. The odds are in our favour." he smiled down at her, ignoring the impulse to wipe the mascara smears off of her face. She was still beautiful, his Rose.

"The odds were always in our favour." Rose smiled, sniffing again. "Oh, Doctor, this hurts." Rose's mind jumped tracks. There was so much to process. "How long, Doctor? How much time do we have here?" Rose's light brown eyes, red rimmed and sad, sought his.

He knew why she asked. Stalling, in hopes that together they could work out a plan. He smiled gently. "'There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish.'" he quoted, giving into the impulse to brush her hair behind her ear. "'The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have." The Doctor grabbed her shoulder pulling Rose to with him. She leaned against him, and he pulled her even closer to his side. She smelled of cocoanuts and pheromones and other things he had once refused to let his mind process. No sense in boundaries now.

"'Remember Scrooge, time in short, and suddenly you are not there any more.'" she finished his quote with a quavering voice. He heard her sigh, and felt her trying to suppress her cries. "One of my favorite things we did was meet him. Dickens, I mean." she said, sniffing. Perhaps it would be easier if they went sooner as opposed to later. This was not going to be any easier for the waiting.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Rose turned to face him. He could almost see the words hanging unsaid on her lips, desperate to be given voice. "How can I do this? I don't even know what to say." tears ran down her face again, and this time he wiped them away. No point in not. His hand lingered on her cheek, cupping her face gently. Rose leaned into his smooth hand, placing her own on the outside of his. "How do I say goodbye to you?"

"Rose, its not goodbye -" he tried, but was silenced by a finger over his mouth.

"Doctor, I've got to finish. I can't let this remain unsaid, I just can't. I can't make the jump back if I'm holding onto this. Thank you for saving my life innumerable times, thank you for rescuing me from the life I was living before, for keeping me from working in a shop for the rest of my days. Thank you for showing me a better way to live. Thank you for being my friend." Rose's tears made it impossible for her to discern his facial expression. It didn't matter. She was going to say her piece. He wouldn't remember it anyways, but she wanted him to know. "Doctor, I... can't believe I'm going to say this, but I can't leave it unsaid, its burning a hole in my chest. You changed my life. You gave me direction when I was listless, and you've shown me amazing things. I know it's stupid, but I love you. I do, I can't help it." she cried, looking him in the eye through a veil of tears. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. But her Mum had always said, nothing worth doing was easy. "I know it doesn't matter, I know you won't remember after... this. But I do. Love you, I mean."


	5. Chapter 5

_It was the hardest thing she had ever done. But her Mum had always said, nothing worth doing was easy. "I know it doesn't matter, I know you won't remember after... this. But I do. Love you, I mean."_

His hearts soared and plummeted simultaneously. "Oh Rose. Of all the things I have to forget, this one I regret the most." he wiped the tears from her face, and and gently grabbed her chin with his long fingers. He held her gaze for a moment, before leaning down and kissing her. Chastely, just a brush of lips. It was soft and sweet and gentle and nothing like the fire that was burning in Rose's chest. She knew her minutes were fleeting and she was not about to let this opportunity pass her by. She opened her mouth, gently drawing him in to deepen the kiss. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tried to pour all of her emotions into this one gesture. Love, sorrow, admiration, adoration - they all tumbled from her to mingle with their breath. It was a sweet, longing, tragic kiss. It was a kiss they knew would be their last. Neither one would remember it, she knew, but it was important. Without her conscious knowledge, the small corner of her mind that remained the Bad Wolf began to awaken.

The Doctor broke their kiss, pulling back and looking into Rose's eyes. Her clear, bright, golden brandy colored eyes. Golden - that's a word for Rose. She wasn't pink and yellow, she was golden, and had been ever since she held Time in her fragile human mind. It scarred her, marked her, but right now she looked like nothing more than a heartbroken girl. Her face was stained with tears, her eyes were puffy and reddened, and her hair was a tangled mess (mostly his handiwork, he thought proudly) but she had never seemed more beautiful. So vulnerable, he wanted to hold her close and chase her fears away. His Rose. The echoes of his regard for her shone in his ancient eyes, and Rose was awed. "Rose, if we could stay here forever I would do it. But we need to go. We have to go back. But Rose, listen to me." he gripped her hand tightly. He couldn't bear for her to dissolve into tears again. His willpower was hanging by a thread as it was. He would keep her here, forever in limbo with him if she asked it of him. The things this girl did to his willpower were not to be contemplated. "This is not the end. We're the Doctor and Rose. We've been through much, much worse than this. And we'll find a way out. We always have before."

Rose nodded, and adjusted his tie without a word. It was a useless gesture, but one that she felt needed to be done. She would not have them leave scruffy. It was like stepping into a casket. She wondered, briefly, what would happen to their bodies when they were reabsorbed into their timelines, but opted not to give it much thought. These things had a way of working themselves out. Words failed her, and she turned to face the images before them, cascading to the ground. Hope danced inside her chest, and she allowed herself to believe.

The Doctor stood resolutely beside her, looking at the images above him one final time. It was breathtaking, really. To see the possibility for a truly happy life laid out before him. Now, he just had to make sure that it would happen. He owed her that. He could almost think he owed himself that.

As Rose stood next to the Doctor, the Bad Wolf was working. It sensed a mingling of great happiness and great sadness in her mind, and knew that it was within her power to fix. She stretched, arching her back gracefully as she exited her den. Trotting over to a well-protected section of Rose's mind, she breezed in easily, padding quietly towards the section where memories were stored. She lifted her golden paw, and marked a small section. A flicker of golden energy, a spark of fire wound itself around this memory, and formed a small paddock around it. A whisper of breath from the Bad Wolf, and it had a key. A swish of her tail, and the key was hidden. She smiled, wolfishly, and padded away. She knew she needed to contact the male. Their keys must match. With a gentle nudge in the right section of Rose's mind, she could feel the human girl reach for the Time Lord's hand, wiggling her fingers as an invitation. As soon as he grasped her hand, the Bad Wolf leapt across the slight psychic bridge, repeating her actions on the other side, creating and hiding the same key. A leap, and she was back in her den in the mind of the female, ready to return to her slumber, satisfied that she had put things to rights.

Rose glanced at the Doctor, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. She was ready. The sooner they could start over, the sooner she would be on her way to him again. Her heart swelled with hope. It was all going to work out.

The Doctor glanced down at Rose, and smiled. "I promise." she nodded, and returned his smiled with a bright one of her own. Even with the dried tear tracks, her happiness shone through like a beacon. She believed that it would work out - and he believed in her belief in him. It worked.

Turning towards the wall of images before them, he tightened his grip on her hand once more. "Ready, Butch?"

"Ready, Sundance." she nodded, and grinned. Rose squared her shoulders in a familiar motion as she readied herself to leap. Always running, they were.

His muscles tensed, preparing for the short sprint and the long fall back into the stream of their conjoined timelines. He could hear himself shouting "Allons-y!", echoed by Rose's laugh, and he began to sprint towards the wall of images. Rose's hand was tight in his, he smiled a real smile. To live - this would be an awfully big adventure.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose's eyes flew open, and she gasped for breath against the protests of her aching, burning lungs. It was dark. Her legs were cramped. Something was tickling her nose. It was uncomfortably hot, and her limbs seemed to be a bit entangled in something. Bedclothes? A duvet! She was in bed? The room hummed silently, almost in the background, and that might have actually been calming had she not been so hopelessly confused. This didn't feel like home. Like nothing she'd ever known. It smelled different. It felt different. Where was she?

Rose jolted in bed with a shriek. She thrashed, tangling herself in unfamiliar covers as she fumbled for the lamp switch - she felt sure there should have been one on the side of her bed. She was all limbs and anxiety and certainly not balance, which seemed to have left her behind a long, long time ago as she landed in a tangled heap on the floor next to the bed. Rose lay still, panting for a moment, attempting to catch her breath and calm the racing of her mind. The pillow chose than exact moment to land on her head, adding insult to injury.

Rose took another deep, mastering breath, and concentrated on remaining as still as possible. When nothing else seemed to happen, she allowed herself to begin to resolve her predicament. Two experimental wiggles proved that she was completely twisted in the covers. She couldn't even raise her hand to rub her smarting head, which she had whacked on the nightstand in her tumble from bed. A few shrugs proved that her arms were pinned, one behind her back and one twisted in a circulatory-inhibiting manner in the front. Rose rolled her eyes and stopped struggling, laying bonelessly on the floor. Hopelessly stuck and completely confused, Rose stared at the ceiling and puffed a breath out, blowing the lock of hair that was covering her left eye out of her way. Bloody typical.

She could hear footsteps thundering down the hallway, and opted to wait for help to untangle herself from the mess she had made. Wherever she was, it certainly didn't feel malevolent. She should know, she thought, thought she really had no idea why she felt she could trust her instincts so implicitly. Maybe it was the fuzzy duvet. No dungeon featured fuzzy duvets. Wait, what? Rose frowned, and busied herself with trying to work out why her mind had lept to "dungeon" and not "drunken-rampage-hotel-room" as a possible location as the door to her room flew open, to reveal the figure of a man standing in the light from the hallway. Behind him, Rose could see dusty-colored walls, pocked with tiny indentations and vaguely resembling... coral? The TARDIS, of course!

Rose relaxed immediately as her eyes adjusted to the light, the tension flowing from her arms and legs as her subconscious finally recognized her surroundings and her jumbled memories clicked into place. Mentally, she scoffed. Where else would she be? Relief flooded her body as she drank in the familiar form of the Doctor, silhouetted against the light bleeding in from the hallway. All broad shoulders and leather jacket and terrible, wonderful ears. Oh, how many of her dreams featured waking up and finding him outside her door - but they were nothing like this. Better to make the best of it, she supposed. Steadfastly ignoring the alarm bell that was still ringing in her mind, proclaiming that something else was amiss, she grinned up at the Doctor, daring him to make a snarky comment about her predicament.

For his part, he ignored her impish grin, choosing to flick the lights on in her bedroom instead. Rose tried not to laugh at his barely noticeable wince and the accompanying scowl when the exact amount of pink in her room was revealed. His distaste for the color, especially when it came to decoration, was no secret; and she could almost hear him trying to finagle a way to get the TARDIS to change it to something he deemed respectable, like blue.

He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring down at her with the insane mixture of amusement and exasperation that only he could make look so damnably attractive.

Rose's tongue peeked out between her teeth as she deepened her smile, trying her hardest to look nonchalant while entangled in a fuzzy pink duvet. "I seem to have gotten myself a bit, er..." she tried to shrug, but could only manage moving one shoulder. She grinned lopsidedly. Rose knew she had to look ridiculous.

"Bit old to be falling out of bed, aren't we?" the Doctor said gruffly, but the twinkle in his blue eyes told Rose the tale of his extreme amusement. He crouched next to her, rocking on the balls of his feet and smiling maddeningly. He made no move to assist her in her predicament.

"Funny, is it?" Rose scowled, and struggled again to free her left arm. Her efforts were met with no success, which only widened the Doctor's grin.

"Incredibly." he stated, before reaching over and untucking the covers from the mattress. Rose wiggled free immediately, kicking the covers viciously away from her. She noted, with some relief, that she was wearing decent pyjamas, even if the bottoms were covered with sledding polar bears. For some reason, she had no memory of going to bed, or any memory of the days activities. No memory at all - of pink polar bear jimjams or otherwise. She frowned involuntarily, and turned back towards the Doctor. He was wearing an expression that mirrored hers, and his eyes were now crinkled with worry. It was unlike him to be so plain, and Rose's own brow furrowed in response. The sense of wrongness that she had been trying to hard to ignore redoubled it's efforts to attract her attention.

The Doctor's frown deepened as he sensed Rose's discomfort and hoped it wasn't due to his appearance in her bedroom at this late hour. They danced a fine line, he and Rose, and he was never sure when he had crossed it. Or if she would, perhaps, not mind him crossing it quite so much as he imagined she would. He could chase that train of thought to oblivion and back, and it would still give him no answers. Especially for this current situation. Nothing for it but the asking, he supposed.

"What's wrong, Rose?" he said. _'It's not like you to be so ungraceful. You're panicked. You've got me worried.',_ he meant.

"You don't seem right. Well, not that you seem wrong, exactly, you're perfectly normal and altogether in one piece, just not quite yourself." he said, calmly. '_You're scaring me, your eyes are wild and wide and deeper and darker than I remember. And Rose, I know your eyes. The exact blissful shade of caramelly chocolate brown. I could spot your eyes in a crowded sea of people with ease, and Rose, these are not your eyes.'_, is what he meant.

Fear boiled like an unattended kettle in his stomach as he watched her fuss with the pillows on her bed. His brow crinkled again as Rose ignored him in favour of continuing to struggle with the the covers, her impish behavior from moments before having vanished into the ether. He could almost feel her embarrassment at her situation and confusion rolled off her in waves. The Doctor's senses were alight, and the cogs and gears of his mind whirred in a different direction. He crossed his arms, watching her with renewed scrutiny. Something in Rose had changed.

Rose knew she should tell the Doctor about her lack of memory, but a niggling corner of her mind insisted that she keep quiet. He would have answers, she argued back, and of course she trusted him implicitly - but the corner insisted that her situation sounded crazy even to her own ears. But, she argued back, the Doctor ate crazy for breakfast. She doubted much surprised him after nine centuries. The corner relented with no small measure of snark and a dose of dont-say-I-told-you-so, and Rose winced at the headache brewing just above her left eye. Nothing for it, she sighed, resigning herself to the difficult explanation to follow. She had to tell him. Something was wrong - horribly wrong. She should not be having arguments with herself. She was going barmy.

Rose rubbed her hands on her arms unconsciously, a gesture which betrayed her discomfort to her friend. She took a deep breath, biting her lip and steeling herself. He waited patiently, giving her time to come to him on her own. Like a frightened baby deer.

"Doctor, I don't really know." Rose said. She had never uttered a larger understatement. What she didn't know could fill several volumes and spawn a television show with a massive cult following. "s'like, somethin's changed. But I can't tell what." Rose paused, fiddling with the worn corner of the blanket as she plopped down ungracefully on the side of her bed. The Doctor stood, awkwardly, until Rose patted the space next to her as an invitation. She remembered belatedly that he had never actually been in her room in the TARDIS. He must have been incredibly concerned to come barging through the door like he had. She supposed she had made a bit of a racket, really. Falling on the floor like a child. Blimey.

The Doctor settled on to the bed with considerably more grace than she had displayed, his hands coming to rest on either side of his legs, long fingers bent over the edge of the mattress. Rose could smell the leather of his jacket like never before, the scent almost embracing her like an old friend. She must have smelled it a hundred thousand times, but it never felt like this. The Doctor's ancient eyes bored into hers as he waited patiently for her to continue.

She sighed, looking across the room. Her fingers continued rubbing the worn corner of the blanket she had brought from home, which she had balled absently next to her pillow in her rush to straighten the bed. The Worry Corner, her mum called it when she was young. It had certainly seen some problems over the years. Rose sighed, warring with herself. She had to tell him - but why did it feel so wrong?

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose could see him shift, crossing his arms and turning towards her, a long leg pulled up beside him on the bed. His mask was slipping, and something akin to worry was plainly visible on his face. Her stomach quailed, and she looked away from his piercing gaze. She couldn't meet his eyes. Panic choked her and her fingers stilled on the corner of blanket. She gulped air, desperate to do something but paralyzed by a force she couldn't control. Rose was not used to feeling so helpless. "Doctor, I can't -"

The room rocked violently and with no warning. Rose grabbed for the Doctor, but with a strangled yelp she was thrown off the bed, her cheek slamming against the bare floor with an audible crack. The Doctor was in a similarly disheveled heap a foot or so away. Their eyes locked, and something in Rose's stomach balked at the anger that clouded his blue eyes near black. Something was hurting his ship, and he knew it.

The TARDIS was shuddering violently around them, twisting and pitching and spinning with sickening speed. The Doctor staggered to his feet hesitantly, as if expecting to be made to lose his balance again any moment. He moved in a flash, and before Rose could properly register his direction she could feel his long fingers grasp her upper arm, hauling her ungracefully to her feet as he propelled her with a frenetic energy down the horribly canted corridor of the ship they called their home. Rose feared for the TARDIS, and for the Doctor. He moved with a panic she hadn't seen since Van Statten's museum, since they had discovered his old enemy and all of the memories he had been repressing threatened to smother him. It was the movements of a man running out of options.

"Do try to keep up, Rose!" The Doctor yelled back, his grip tight on her arm and no trace of a grin on his stoic face. He was worried, and that terrified Rose. He usually greeted danger with a grin and a handshake. What was so different about this time?

"What's going on? Why are we -" Rose left another sentence unfinished as they ended up in an ungainly heap at the entrance to the control room, which the poor addled TARDIS had mercifully moved closer to her bedroom than normal. The Doctor scrambled to his feet, leaving her to her get up on her own as he launched himself bodily towards the controls. A boot-covered foot was braced against the coral support strut nearest to him, and the Doctor was furiously typing something into the TARDIS' computer.

Rose opted to remain in a pile at the door - no sense in getting up only to be thrown right back down again. She tentatively reached up to feel her cheek, wincing at the tenderness under her fingertips, and thanked whatever deity was listening that there was no blood. Probably a right lovely black eye tomorrow, but her focus was directed elsewhere when another horrific shudder threw the Doctor against the console with a smack. Her eyes were locked onto his body, watching him leap around the controls with barely disguised panic. His frenetic movements worried Rose far more than the near buckling of the walls near her head ever could.

The Doctor whooped, and punched a final button with a flash of his manic grin. As abruptly as it started, the TARDIS ground to a stop, a final flop onto whatever surface it chose to land on. Rose managed to hold her relative position on the floor, but heard a distinctly unmanly yelp as the Doctor was thrown across the room. He had landed face down about five feet from where she had clung to the floor, fingers drumming an annoyed pattern on the walkway.

Struggling to her feet (and not half seasick), Rose lurched her way across the room, kneeling next to the fallen Time Lord. Her hand hovered over his leather-covered shoulder, wondering if she should roll him over or not. With a moan, the Doctor took the choice away from her as he rolled on his back to look at her, rubbing his head and grinning like mad.

Rose sat back on her heels, and giggled like a schoolgirl. God, it felt good to laugh - even if she couldn't remember why she hadn't done it recently. A twinge of panic coursed through her veins, but she stuffed it behind one of the locked doors in her mind. Not important right now.

"Funny, is it?" the Doctor said, laughter sparking behind his eyes despite the slightly acerbic tone of voice. She only laughed the harder, nodding as much as she was able. She pulled herself to her feet, and offered the Doctor a hand up. He accepted her help, pulling her into a warm hug when he had regained his balance. Rose relaxed against him, the rough fabric of his green jumper resting gently against her bruised cheek. Leather, bergamot, machine oil, and the musty smell of stardust coupled with the twin beats of his hearts enveloped her like a warm blanket, and soothed an ache she hadn't realised she felt. Given the choice, Rose would have stayed in his hug forever, and tried not to feel so woefully bereft when the Doctor finally made to move.

"So. Any guesses why we fell out of the sky and landed... Wherever this is?" Rose asked, peering at the computer monitor though she knew it would do her no good. The squiggles and loops that comprised the Gallifreyian language would not be translated by the TARDIS, who apparently did not deign Rose worthy enough to read her navigation information, even after all they had been through. It still smarted a bit, that.

The Doctor leaned over her shoulder, apparently making more sense of the information presented than she had. No surprise, really. "That's... very odd. The TARDIS isn't even sure." he scowled, and punched a few keys indelicately with a long finger. Rose filed away the fact that he hadn't even begun to address the 'why' of their fall from the Vortex, just the 'where'. Not born yesterday, her.

The Doctor's scowl deepened, and he grabbed Rose around the upper arm again and began dragging her towards the door. Rose dug her heels in, mind instantly flashing to her horrid sledding polar bear covered pyjamas. "Oi, Doctor! Can I put some real clothes on before we go blundering about in parts unknown? And enough with the draggin', you might as well buy me a leash." She begged, feeling herself being dragged closer and closer to the now-slightly-ajar door to the outside. The Doctor abruptly stopped pulling on her arm, causing Rose to fly forward into his back, mid-protest, with a muffled "ompf" and a mouthful of leather jacket.

He turned to look at her, incredulous. "Rose Tyler, you mean you want to make me wait to explore until you have a bath and put on makeup?" he stared at her, jaw gaping open rather unattractively. It took everything in her power not to giggle like a child at his wounded expression. "How like a human. Oh, let's put off exploration of this place, where possibly no other human (or humanoid) has ever set foot before, just for the sake of looking presentable. Think of the possibilities! It could be completely uninhabited! Not to mention, we need to work out why we're here in the first place. You silly apes, you always look all pink and yellow no matter what you do anyways. Oh, and now that you mention it, a leash is a brilliant idea, fantastic, never met anyone so Jeopardy-friendly as you, always getting yourself into something, you are - "

Rose held up a finger, stopping the miffed Time Lord mid-ramble. "All right, all right, you made your point. Now quit whinging and open the bloody door, and if someone mocks my jimjams you will never, ever hear the end of it." Rose huffed, crossing her arms. He grinned, and threw opened the door, crossing the threshold with long strides while still dragging Rose behind him.

They were greeted by a room full of cleaning supplies. The Doctor looked deflated. "We're in a bloody closet." he grumbled, kicking absently at a bucket. "How could the TARDIS not know we were in a closet?" he sulked mightily, chewing on his bottom lip and peering at an unmarked bottle of orange liquid.

Rose looped her arm through his, dragging him away from the storage center. "Come on, Doctor Livingstone." she teased, warmed by the roll of his eyes in response. "Let's go see this obviously untouched planet of yours." she grinned up at him, and she could feel his disappointment and irritation disappearing in the wake of her smile.

"Didn't you want to change your clothes, at least?" he said, taking a sweeping look at her Fair-isle-knit-slipper covered feet, fuzzy pink pants, grey tee and slept in hair. She was cheeky. She was adorable. She had to be freezing.

"Nope!" she said, popping the p. "You were all hot and in a hurry, and now I've gotten used to it." She smiled, and cheerily marched the two of them out of the closet and into what looked a bit like a prefab hallway. Rivets dotted the walls, and everything was an industrial-colored nightmare. Numbers were painted on the doors, which announced their opening and shutting with an almost pleasant computerised voice. The grate underfoot clunked loudly with their footfalls, and suddenly the blood in Rose's veins felt like ice. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

This place was so familiar yet so unknown at the same time - it was maddening. She felt like she had this place all mapped out, but they turned a corner and it wasn't like she thought it would be. It was déjà vu beyond what she had ever felt. Panicky cold sweats descended from head to toe, and she caught the Doctor's ancient eyes boring a hole through her. Of course he would notice.

"Rose, what's wrong? You never did tell me." he stopped, gently turning her to face him. She shifted her eyes away from his piercing blue gaze, contemplating the structural integrity of the wall nearest to her head instead. She sighed, mightily, knowing it was useless to resist the Doctor when he wanted to know something. Unconsciously, her tongue poked between her teeth, and she missed the smirk that briefly flitted over her friend's face.

"I can't explain it - a' least not proper. Something's wrong with my 'ead - this place seems so familiar but I know we've never been here before. I just feel like I know it. Like I should know it." she paused, chewing on her bottom lip.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, frowning as he took in the expression on his young companion's face. There was something else, something she wasn't saying. "Come on Rose - out with it. Wasn't born yesterday, me, I know you well enough to know that not all that's on your mind. Tell me. We've got time -" he said, just as the door next to her head opened and they were greeted with a face full of tentacles.

Rose screamed in terror, both at the creature and the sudden pain flooding her head. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. Flashes of a half remembered time blinded her, images of this very hallway but under completely different circumstances swirled behind her eyes: an army comprised of the creatures in front of her channeling some hideous monster as they chanted their doom. The Doctor - but not the Doctor? - descending into the blackness wearing a spacesuit, oblivious to her terror at his departure. Red eyes and black writing. A prophecy that was spoken over her. A black hole, looming impossibly over their heads. "Welcome to Hell." Rose whispered feverishly as she sank to the floor, eyes rolling back into her skull. The Doctor dove to catch her, just managing to get his arms behind her head as she crashed to the grating bonelessly.

"Rose!" he whispered harshly, shaking her shoulders in an attempt to stir her back to consciousness as the tentacled face loomed above them. Her head lolled on her shoulders, and he could feel the emotional turmoil rolling off of her mind in waves. Ignoring the growing terror in his stomach, he cradled Rose to his chest as he titled his head to face the unusual creature that was staring at them impassively.

"My friend - she's injured, she needs help. Can you help us? Is there a leader, a captain, someone of authority I can speak to?" he was proud of himself for the composure he heard in his voice. He certainly felt none of it. The creature peered at him, and in a electronic modulated voice it answered, "We must... feed."

"Oh bloody hell." the Doctor cursed. "Can we never meet one set of aliens that just truly doesn't want to maim us? Really?" He bounced to his feet, sweeping Rose into a fireman's carry over his left shoulder. He steadfastly ignored the heart-shaped posterior next to his ear. Dirty alien, him, thinking that about his unconscious friend when they faced the serious possibility of being devoured.

With a quick salute to the stationary monster in the doorway, he bounded away down the corridor back to the TARDIS. They needed to get out of here. He skidded to a stop as three more of the tentacled beasts rounded the corner before him. He spun quickly on his heel, but another group of them were making their way down the hallway behind him. No doors in between them. Trapped! The Doctor cursed colorfully in the language that the TARDIS steadfastly refused to translate.

He gently placed Rose against the wall, making sure her head was not bent at a strange angle. She was (mercifully?) still dead to the world. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear affectionately, willing her to remain asleep. Her mind was already hanging in the balance - she did not need to see anything else that would upset her. He could feel her internal battle, just as he felt a flash of pink affection from her consciousness as he removed his hand from her face, and the Doctor smiled. She knew he was there.

He turned to face the growing crowd of aliens, placing himself in between Rose's crumpled body and their advances. He had promised to keep her safe - why was he always failing so miserably at that very simple task? In all of time and space, could they not catch a break? Their odd speech patterns, all repeating the same mantra with eerie precision, echoed down the metal hallways. "We must... feed." They intoned, the ball they held flashing with each sentence. Bloody nightmare fuel, that's what.

Adopting a casual pose, the Time Lord faced the aliens with all of the underlying power that he could muster. He had bluffing his way out of problems reduced to a science. This wouldn't be so bad - not the first time he had talked down aliens who had wanted them for a main course. Seven of the tentacle creatures gathered around, pressing closer and closer, and the Doctor smirked.

**_(author's note: 'lo! sorry for the wait - here's an extra long chapter to make up for it. I know, I know, this was once strictly Rose/10, but plot bunnies being what they are... fret not, I know 10 will be making another appearance. ;) I hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think & what I need to improve!)_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**author's note: yay, another update! this is quickly turning into something much longer than I imagined, but I think I've got the thread now :) keep the reviews coming, nothing makes me happier :) please let me know what you think, or what I need to improve on! hope you enjoy. watch this space, I've already got a bit of the next two chapters roughed out ;)**_

Rose awoke slowly, and in unfamiliar surroundings. She rolled her eyes in the darkness - this not knowing was getting a bit stale. The headache that had been percolating over her left eye flared to life afresh, and Rose winced as she began to take stock of her surroundings. The blanket that covered her was rough and smelled of chemicals, and the mattress was lumpy and rather stiff. Not the TARDIS, then. At least she knew that much. Remembering the last time she awoke, she forced herself not to panic as she rolled over, hand reaching for a light source. Instead of controls, however, her hand met with the smooth, cool planes of the Doctor's face.

"Oi! Mind the eyes!" he grumbled, and snapped the lights on with the sonic. The first thing Rose saw was his anxious expression,  
and the second was that they were in a storage closet that was labouring under delusions of grandeur and busy masquerading as living quarters. The grey, dull walls sloped overhead, dotted with the same rivets that lined the hallway. Across the room, a computer monitor glowed to life, the Doctor having appropriated the desk chair to sit by her bedside. The harsh lighting only served to highlight the austere industrialness of their surroundings. If Rose had been claustrophobic, she would have been in hell. The expression clicked in her brain, and Rose shuddered. Her eyes glazed over as the odd flashback from the hallway flooded her mind's eye again. Rose was determined to remain in mastery of her senses, however, and gripped the blanket roughly as she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing.

The Doctor, sensing her discomfort, wordlessly moved to better face her and drew her into a crushing hug. Rose clung to him desperately - she seemed to be doing a lot of that, recently. Places she had never been, people she had never met, voices she had never heard thundered in her head, and Rose squeezed her eyes shut in confusion. Her muscles tensed, and she longed to make a break for the safety of the TARDIS. Surely there was something there that could fix her head. She opened her mouth, ready to tell the Doctor everything, but no sound escaped her parched throat despite numerous attempts at speech. Tears sprang to Rose's eyes as the headache threatened to overwhelm her.

"Rose, Rose..." the Doctor soothed, alternating between murmuring her name and uttering quiet platitudes in a language long ago forgotten. He could feel her body flutter against him like a trapped moth. She wasn't trembling, she was quaking. Her terror was  
a metallic tang in his mouth. "We're fine. We're safe. I promise." he murmured. His hand cupped the back of her head, pressing her ear close to his chest.

The double thump of his hearts resounded in her ears, and Rose latched onto it like a lifeline. It sang to her, along with the slight fuzzy glow from the TARDIS that seemed to follow her._ 'I am real, you are real, we are here.'_, it called, repeated on the stereo in her head. It was the fuzzy, warm feeling previously achieved only by radiator-warmed mittens on a snowy day, or a blanket fresh from the dryer. Rose imagined it growing arms, legs, a body, and chasing away the echoes of her nightmares. No one was more surprised than Rose when it did exactly as she described. She relaxed minutely in the absence of the worst of her discomfort, trying to allow her muscles to stop their rigid spasm. The Doctor would fix her head. He had to.

"Rose, you have to tell me what's going on." the Doctor murmured, smoothing the palm of his hand over the back of her head. She stiffed in his arms, waves of fear and panic crashing over the both of them like a storm. The Doctor gently disentangled himself from her arms, and held her out to face him, looking deep into her eyes. Her sudden, uncontrolled telepathic projections over the past hours both surprised and terrified him. As a human, Rose should never have possessed the ability to project emotions the way she was. She was mind-blind - or she had been. Realization snapped into place. Someone had done something to Rose. His Rose.

His eyes clouded with fear and rage, and he threw up his mental walls with a speed he hadn't dreamed possible. She  
could never feel his anger - certainly not like this. Rose was newly-minted telepathic being. So new, she didn't even realise she was capable of communication on a mental level. He seriously doubted she even had an inkling that she was screaming so loud, a minor telepath three miles away could still hear her. A sudden wash of strong emotion from him, especially in the state she was in, would terrify her beyond belief. His panic and uncertainty wasn't helping her, either. She had to be picking up on it.

With a tenderness he didn't feel capable of at the moment, the Doctor cupped her face and raised her chin, mirroring the same position they had been in just a few weeks ago. At least there were no Reapers this time. He had to resist the impulse to attempt to connect with her, though his fingers longed to be drawn to her pulse points as his mind sang with the prospect of friendly mental contact. The Doctor was embarrassed at his lack of self-control, even in the face of the terror his brave companion was wallowing in. She could not handle another mind with hers until she had learned to master her own. He filed away his guilt for later - he could beat himself up for his selfishness when Rose was sorted.

Rose sighed, puffing out a breath of air that pushed her long bangs up from her face. In an uncharerecteristically tender move, the Doctor brushed them behind her ear, miming the action he had done while she was unconscious. She smiled and leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from his hand. He must be worried, she mused - that's not something he would generally do.

As if sensing her train of thought, the Doctor's expression softened again. "Rose, you put the fear of God into me. No small feat, that." Rose winced, remembering a flash of the opposing deity that burned behind her eyes a scant few minutes ago. The Doctor, of course, did not miss the flicker of discomfort she experienced before remastering herself. He growled. This had gone on far too long. "Rose. This ends now. Tell me what is going on with you. I don't know what's gotten into you that suddenly you don't think you can trust me..." he trailed off, wounded despite himself. Her implicit trust in him had seemed unshakeable, and her apparent unwillingness to confide in him when she was obviously so distressed was worrying. She acted like a skittish, wounded animal, and nothing about her behaviour spoke of the Rose he had thought he'd known so well.

Despite herself, moisture welled in Rose's eyes. She could feel the hurt radiating off of the Doctor, and knowing she had caused it was proving too much for her tenuous control. Rose dashed the tears away quickly with the back of her hand before answering him. "'S not that I dont trust you, Doctor." she said, softly. "It's tha I don't trust myself."

The Doctor slid his hands down her arms, moving to grasp her hands instead. He tried to move from concerned to reassuring, but wasn't sure how much of his inner turmoil Rose could pick up on. He couldn't bring himself to break skin contact with her, however, even if it was boosting the strength of his guarded projections. He doubted Rose would have let him, regardless.

Rose gripped his long fingers tightly, grounding herself in the reality of his cool skin. His anxiety was grounding - she had to remember there was someone other than her at stake, here. The Doctor seemed impervious, but Rose knew him well enough to know that was simply not so. He was as hesitant and cautious and scared as the next person - just very, very good at bluffing.

"It's not exactly the easiest thing to explain, either." Rose began, worrying her bottom lip with her incisor. "I've been trying to find a way to explain it without sounding like I've gone round the twist, but I'm kind of thinking I might have done?" Rose laughed, a bitter, strangled sound. "I've got... Memories. That aren't mine. Or they should be, but aren't. I mean, they're about us, but a different you and he's got hair and a suit and -"

The Doctor held up a long finger, stilling Rose's waterfall of words. The door to their room opened, slowly, revealing a timid-looking blonde man holding a tray of food. The Doctor did not miss the way Rose tensed, and the flicker of pure terror that she broadcasted. She knew this man - or, someone had.

"'lo, sorry..." the man started, eyeing Rose with obvious discomfort. The Doctor doubted that the man needed to posses any telepathic ability whatsoever to know that Rose wanted him to be anywhere but in their space. "I've just brought some food. It's not wonderful, but it's something." he placed the tray down on the computer desk, and turned around with hasty urgency.

"Thank you, Toby." Rose murmured, eyes boring through the man as he made his retreat out the small door. When she said his name, the man tensed even further, managing a terse nod and a strangled "call-if-you-need-anything-else." before shutting the door rather firmly behind him.

"Toby?" the Doctor said quietly as the door snicker shut. "Rose, is that his name?"

She eyed the Doctor with no small measure of sarcasm. "Have you gone silly on me? 'course it is, why else would I have... called..." the little colour that had returned to her face drained away as she realised the implications of her statement. "'m not supposed to know that, am I?" Rose said, shaking her head and rubbing above her left eye. "It's like I've been saying. I know people I've never met. And it wouldn't be so bad if I could remember my own memories. I can't remember anything except for this morning. I mean, I know you. I know the TARDIS. I know my Mum and Mickey and where I come from. I remember you grabbing my hand and running away with you, and then everything is a mess. I cant tell where Ive been and where I haven't." Rose paused, licking her lips.

The Doctor shifted his hold on her hands slightly, trying not to crush her fingers with the force of his grip. The more Rose told him, the harder the gears in his head turned, and the less he knew. "So, you don't remember where we were yesterday? At all?" he asked, for clarification. "Do any of your memories have any sense of time? I mean... can you tell _when_ they are?"

Rose shook her head. "Not at all. Everything after meeting you... S'just all a big knot. All beginnings and middles but no ends and everything is everywhere. But Doctor, I know that I know this place. I've been here before. Or someone has. Whatever. It almost doesn't matter!" the urgency in her tone was mounting with each syllable. "And I don't remember why, but I know this place is bad news. We need to go, Doctor. Right now." The panicked hitched returned to her speaking cadence, and she could feel her calm unraveling.

The Doctor's brow creased, and he loosened his grip in order to hold up his hand to Rose, beseeching her to slow down. "Rose, I don't doubt it. In fact, nothing would surprise me more than to learn that this place is full of danger. But we can't leave - not right now. Even if we could, we have a responsibility to the people here. We have to help them, too. I know you, Rose. I know that's important to you." he soothed, giving her something other than her own panic to focus on. He watched her nod consideringly with no small measure of satisfaction. "My warm-hearted little human girl." he said, affectionately, and teasingly tweaked her cheek. The Doctor had the audacity to smirk as Rose scowled and blushed.

"Oi! Who you callin' little?" she groused, a hint of her usual good cheer returning. "And besides, you're deflecting." she stated, with a scowl. "Why can't we leave? I mean, our usual reasons of derring-do and rescue aside. And what happened with those... Tentacle things? Short word, can almost remember the name. Weird word, odd even. Odd? Ood!" Rose cried happily, thankful that something had clicked into place at last. "Ood! I'm right, aren't I?"

The Doctor nodded, smiling a bit despite himself. "Got it in one! They buggered off once I gave them a stern talking to. Weelll, that and they weren't exactly malevolent to begin with. Servant race, them." Even as the words left his mouth, he frowned on them. Something wasn't adding up for Rose, either, but she chose to keep quiet. She wasn't sure enough of anything to go spouting off.

"They chalked their insistence on eating us up to a translator error. They were the ones who set us up in the room, brought the crew by... Very helpful, the Ood." the Time Lord rambled, hoping against hope that his distraction tactics would work and Rose wouldn't ask the question that was dancing on the tip of her tongue.

He wasn't that lucky today. Rose could smell his avoidance a mile away, and wasn't about to let him get away with it. Rose pulled herself into a tailor position on the bed, leaning forward and staring at her friend as if she could see right through him. "And yet, you haven't you mentioned why, exactly, we can't leave here right now? Come on Doctor, I know you better than that."

He sighed, running a hand unconsciously over the close cropped hair on his head. "'Course you do, Rose. You're brilliant. We can't leave because we're stuck. Something happened, while you were out. An accident on the station - that's where we are, by the way. The section with the TARDIS..."

Rose felt her blood run cold. "Doctor, where's the TARDIS?" she asked, flashes of the time ship on the planet's unstable surface, falling into a gaping wound in the ground sprang to her mind unbidden. Another piece of this story clicked into place in her head. "She fell, didn't she. Into a shaft drilled into the planet."

The blood drained from the Doctor's face, and he nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note: here we go! this is probably one of my least favorite chapters - sorry, it's kinda boring and it was a beast to write! I should have titled it "In Which We Take a Short And Rather Boring Walk" instead of chapter eight. I promise the next one is soonish :) plot exposition can be so tedious! this may get rewritten, but y'all will be the first to know :) I know my interpretation of Ida is a bit unorthodox, but if it bugs y'all let me know & Ill tone it down a bit. please review! every single one makes my day a million times over :)**_

The door chose the exact moment that Rose began to respond to the Doctor to open with a viscous bang. A small, hard-looking woman stood in the doorframe, messy brown hair dull and knotted, like she couldn't be fussed to care for it properly. She seemed surprised to see Rose awake, and the shock of it gave her momentary pause.

"Oh. You're up." she blinked a bit, almost shaking her head like a dog who'd been startled. "Not exactly what I was expecting - resilient little mite, aren't you? I was coming' down to talk to him." a thumb jerked towards the Doctor. "But it's nice to see you looking so well. I'm Science Officer Ida Scott. Seems you've already met Toby - I wondered where he was heading with the tray. Well, grab a sandwich and fall in, then. No sense sitting about here if everyone's feeling better!" Ida paused, rubbing her hands together as she surveyed the broom-closet-with-aspirations-of-being-something-more.

"Lots going on, and since we've collectively abandoned explaining how your ship got here -" the Doctor winced, and Ida glanced at him in sympathy. "- sorry again for her loss; you lot may as well come and be a part of the proceedings." the science officer's eyes sparkled, the pure joy of discovery radiating off of her in excited little ripples. Rose couldn't help but grin at her display, her bad mood shrinking away a little in the presence of so many positive emotions.

The Doctor, however, was not as easily swayed. His large arms remained crossed in front of his chest, a skeptical frown perched on his face. "What, exactly, are these proceedings?" he half growled, radiating irritation and aloofness. Ida had the good grace to shrink back a bit from his snarl, eyeing him with trepidation.

"We've finally done it. We've reached the source of the energy." Ida stated plainly, her eyes glowing with anticipation. "Oh, dear, but of course that means nothing to you two. So much explaining to do. Come on then - easier to see than to be told." Ida stepped out of the doorway into the hall, and Rose launched herself from the bed in a scramble to follow her. As an afterthought, she leaned over, snagged two prepacked sandwiches from the tray, and grinned at the Doctor before grabbing his hand with her free one and urging him on. The Doctor scowled at her before rising, his steps much heavier than Rose's.

If he was being honest, he was more than a bit wounded due to Rose's lack of anxiety regarding his poor TARDIS. Did she not understand that the last of another species was gone, beyond retrieval? And just how badly that ripped him apart? Another ancient species, gone forever, because of him. Oh the TARDIS was fine physically - he could still feel her mind within his, the gentle tickle that had always represented her presence still floated freely through his consciousness. She was projecting her confusion, and a bit of sadness, but still completely trusting in his ability to recover her. He sent some warm thoughts of affection and regret that they were not together in her direction. The TARDIS accepted them with a twinkle and a surge of good faith. He wished some of her unshakeable confidence would rub off on him. He could sorely use it.

His hearts told him that his beloved ship was gone for certain, and that he and Rose were good and stuck. Here - in the 42nd century if his time sense was to be believed - far from the home she loved. There would be no way of getting back. They would spend their days on the slow path, and eventually Rose would grow tired of him and his daft face. Surely she would, when he was unable to show her the wonders he had promised when he ripped her away from the life she had so contentedly been living before he showed up and bolloxed it all up. Rose would leave for greener pastures in the end - and she should. There was nothing he could give her. Washed up, battle-scarred, broken, so used to being alone he was incapable of decent companionship any longer. She should not spend the limited years of her lifespan with a man that was unable to completely return the acceptance, the companionship, the healing she so freely gave of herself. She _should_ leave him, he mused, and find someone who would return her affection and adoration in excess. Someone who actually deserved it. Deserved her.

As if sensing his morbid train of thought, Rose squeezed the Doctor's hand gently. To his surprise, a warm wave of affection washed over him as they followed Ida through yet another talking door. He blinked at the unexpected emotion, wallowing in the warmth it left in his seemingly permanently chilled body. He squeezed back with equal force, running his thumb over the back of her small hand. Rose hadn't left him yet - he had to keep their situation in perspective. Treasure the times he had left with her. The Doctor looked down on Rose, drinking in her features like a man dying of thirst in the desert. He worked on committing every facet of her face to his memory. Rose smiled up at him, dark eyes sparkling with unnamed emotion - for the first time since she woke up this morning, The Doctor had a hard time getting a read on her general state. She swung their conjoined arms, lit up like a firefly with the capture of his full attention.

"Chin up, Doctor. We've been in worse scrapes than this. Missile aimin' directly for us? Murdering Dalek? Zombies? Sound familiar?" she cajoled, nudging him with her shoulder. When he failed to respond with enough good cheer, his mood continuing to darken, Rose's grin faltered, hoping against hope she was recalling things that they had actually done together.

The Doctor gave her a strained smile, squeezing her hand. "Of course we have. We'll sort it." he knew he could sense the lack of conviction behind his words. Rose was a multitude of things - unobservant was not one of them.

His - his? - pink-and-yellow girl smiled a sad, small smile up at him. No playful tongue poked between her teeth with this grin. "Don't worry, Doctor. She's okay. The TARDIS, I mean. I know she is. I can still feel her - and I couldn't if she were gone. Bit of fuzzy golden glow, kinda tickles and makes my teeth hurt sometimes. She's complaining of a bit of cold, though." Rose grinned; a genuine smile curved her lips upwards as she watched the disbelief spread over her friend's face. "Can't you hear her, too?" she asked, full of confusion and innocence. "I thought for sure you'd be able to, you bein' her pilot and all."

The furrows in his brow became valleys as the gears in the Doctor's head spun even faster. Did she have any idea - any at all - what she just said? "Rose -" he began, excited and terrified by the prospect of her realizing her telepathy, only to be silenced by necessity as Ida stepped through a final door, motioning them forward with a grin.

"Come on then, step lively! Everyone else is in here. You've already met Toby," Ida gestured to the tow-headed young man, who raised a hand in recognition. Rose ducked through the last doorframe, still pulling the Doctor behind her. "He's our archeologist." The Doctor scoffed, and Rose gently kicked him in the shin and shot him a look, which he returned in kind. No love was lost between the Doctor and those who pretended to understand the past.

"And this is Scooti, our maintenance trainee," a young woman with a shock of dirty blonde hair and kind eyes poked her head up from behind some crates, waving quickly before disappearing back into her work. A clang and a girlish cuss rang out from behind the crates, and a panel hit the floor with a clatter. Ida grinned and gently kicked the man she stood next to, shocking him enough to pay attention. "This is Danny, he maintains and controls the Ood workforce here. I understand you've already met that lot." Ida said, her voice tinged with amusement. Danny, a dark-skinned man with inky black hair to his shoulders looked up long enough from his wristcomp to grunt, and to wink cheekily at Rose. The Doctor stiffened again, and Rose just rolled her eyes at the pair of them before squeezing the Doctor's arm and shifting one of the sandwiches to his free hand. Macho posturing should be beneath his so called highly-evolved superior genetics, but it still warmed Rose in ways it probably shouldn't to his see hackles rise in defense of her - even against such a harmless threat as wifebeater-clad Danny.

Ida, if she even noticed, chose to ignore the tiny turf war that erupted to her left, and instead sat down next to the last crew member in the room. He was an older man with a shock of grey hair rapidly going white, and annoyance was written in every line of his face. "And this miserable old sod is John." Ida said cheekily, electing a small grin from the scowling man as she lightly punched his arm. "He's the security officer on this tug. Only one missing now is Captain Zachary, and you've met him already, haven't you..." Ida faltered, as if suddenly realizing she didn't know either of their visitor's names.

The Doctor stepped forward, extending a hand to Ida with a brilliant grin. "I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor." The science officer accepted his handshake with a smile of her own. The Doctor swung his arm about to indicate Rose, who wiggled her fingers and smiled with the intoxicating confidence of the unafraid. Gods, he had missed her brilliant grin. "And this is Rose. She's my... she's..." Rose quirked an amused eyebrow at him, and the Doctor swallowed in a bit of embarrassment. "She's my best mate." Rose's nudge and grin erased his anxiety over the misstep in the way that only she was capable of.

Nods and smiles were exchanged afresh with the rest of the crew, and Ida patted Rose on the shoulder. "It is good to see you looking so well, Rose. To hear Captain tell it, when he stumbled across you two and our Oods in the hallway, you were out like a light and the Doctor looked like he was about to take on the whole host empty handed for your benefit!" the woman chuckled, oblivious to the flush of red across the Doctor's face. "Not often we get visitors here - for obvious reasons." Ida continued, prattling on cheerily.

"Speaking of..." she pranced over to a switch on the wall, enjoying herself a little bit too much. Rose relished her enthusiasm as she showed off her little family, and their home. She wondered how long the crew had been working here – and more importantly, what they were working on. Rose frowned as she remembered the predicament they found themselves in. Her mind flashed back to the poor TARDIS, somewhere on the surface of this apparently inhospitable and out of the way planet.

Ida spread her arms, as if to indicate the whole of the base and the surrounding planet. "Welcome to Sanctuary Base, situated on the planet orbiting K37 Gem 5."

The Doctor frowned, his arm tightening around Rose's where it was still wound around his own. His mind flew through its vast libraries of knowledge, lighting on the information about that particular star and why, exactly it felt so wrong. "That's impossible." he stated, refraining from his impulse to pace and puzzle this out. "K37 Gem 5 is a black hole. No planet can orbit a black hole, its gravity field would obliterate anything that even considered it before it even began to coalesce enough to _pretend _to be a planet. There would have to be a huge force, enormous, in order to overcome it! Something like six to the power of six for at least six seconds..." he trailed off, looking at Ida with a questioning expression. Suddenly, he began to understand what the crew was looking for. And he didn't like in the least.

Ida eyed the Doctor with a newfound esteem. It wasn't often that people even began to comprehend the enormity of their situation, much less begin to work out _why, _exactly, they were there. She could see the comprehension dawning in his eyes, and she could certainly respect that. "… and we've just broken through to the source." She said, proudly, her pointer finger depressing a button on the wall.

Rose gasped as the ceiling of the cafeteria began to slide back, revealing a fiery sky above them. She burrowed closer to the Doctor's side, and he lifted up his arm to allow her to snug herself in line with his body, held close and protected. The black hole loomed over their heads, exactly as she remembered it. Fire and flares and doom and destruction reeled through her head, and Rose resisted the impulse to retch. The image of Toby, eyes reddened and face covered with crooked black marks, burned in her mind, and she cast a sideways glance at the man. He was mesmerized by the sight of their unlikely sky, eyes unfocused as he stared upwards.

The throbbing over her left eye, present since she awoke this morning, redoubled its efforts to make her ill. Rose scrubbed at it with the back of her hand still clutching the sandwich in its plastic wrapper, and tried to control her body's rebellious tendency to quiver and shake. She had shown enough weakness for today. What she really needed to do was get the Doctor alone again, explain the new memory she had of Toby. Perhaps this time could be different. Maybe her knowledge could be used to change things for the better. Scooti's face was burning in her mind's eye, as well, although the details of her situation were hazy and unfocused. Rose was proud of herself, however, for not despairing when the memories rose to the surface. They were tools - possibly even gifts. She should chose to use them as such. She ached to speak to the man next to her, but the Doctor's stillness spoke of his desire to think. There would be time enough for conversation later. Rose turned her gaze to the inferno above them, and watched the skies with eyes much older than her nineteen years.

The Doctor felt Rose snuggle in deeper to his embrace, feelings of fear and discontent niggling under his skin. He tightened his arm around her as he stared at the sky, watching the black hole above them consume everything around it – except their tiny planet. He scoffed to himself as he remembered Rose's fevered statement just a few short hours ago. Welcome to Hell. On this impossible planet, he might just be persuaded to believe that such a place existed.


	9. Chapter 9

**author's note: sorry for the wait again - here's another long one! It's been crazy for me recently. This was written at work, hospitals, in the car, sitting and waiting for someone to pick me up... thank goodness for iPhones and cheap word processing apps! Doctor-centered POV this time. again, let me know your thoughts! I love hearing them, and they _always_ help. **

How long they stared skyward, transfixed by the impossible tableau over their heads, was a mystery even to the Doctor. He only recognised it as Far Too Long. Even when his neck cricked and his eyes grew a little dry, he couldn't force himself to tear his gaze away - much less blink. The Doctor released a breath he hasn't realised he had been holding when Ida recovered the ceiling. The grey scales were soothing in a way industrialisation should never, ever be.

"It's enough to make a man mad." Ida said, quietly. For their part, the rest of the crew simply shook their heads and returned to their various jobs, looking only a bit awed. The Doctor supposed that with time, even the sight of what should have been the cause all of their deaths had a dulled impact.

The young man with inky black hair paused at the doorway before he made his slow and apparently somewhat reluctant retreat. The Doctor's stony gaze didn't leave him until the back of his head had well and truly disappeared. He hoped that wossname - Danny! didn't consider him oblivious enough not to see how he had eyed Rose. The little sod practically ran into a wall on his way out, he was so busy mooning at her. The insolent little bugger was lucky. For once, the Doctor had more important things to do than get into a testosterone-fueled war, even on Rose's behalf. A quick glance down at his companion found her still practically wound around him, like a cat between legs. He had only been half aware when Rose had pressed herself to him, and wiggled as much into his closed embrace as possible. Rose's gaze had still been directed at the ceiling until his eyes connected with her own. She twitched, just once, then gave him a wan smile. He returned it slowly, resisting the impulse to tuck that ever-loose strand of hair behind her ear. Irrational, that. The Doctor gently disengaged Rose's viselike hold on his arm, fingers closing around her hands and squeezing once as he stepped away. Released from his supportive grip, Rose sank to a seat on the cafeteria bench, still staring at the ceiling. The Doctor tried to put her anxiety from his mind as he cornered Ida.

"Mind filling in some blanks for me?" he said, crossing his arms over his chest again. Try as he might to do otherwise, a threatening pose was the easiest, most natural position to adopt when he felt so far out of his depth. He felt threatened. Exposed. It was natural for him to puff up like a porcupine. Pufferfish. Pine cone. So many prickly words began with a p...

Ida raised her eyebrows at his suddenly vacant expression before turning back to Scooti. The younger woman shied away from the Doctor, resembling a foal confronted with a dog for the first time. The stranger, who had simply appeared this afternoon with nary an explanation, looked thunderous. Scooti could swear the scent of ozone hung in the air around him. She was all too happy to be directed down the hall with a nod and a flick of the wrist from Ida.

Snapped from his earlier alliterative musings, The Doctor tapped his foot a bit too impatiently as Ida tapped the small datapad held by the bushy-haired girl. The little mechanic - couldn't be much older than Rose, really - gave him a brief, terse smile before turning and making her way out of the room. The silence in her wake was palpable.

"Not at all, Doctor." Ida said softly once Scooti had left ear's reach. "but it truly seems your attention is needed elsewhere." Her eyes were trained on Rose, who was pushing buttons on her Superphone with shaky fingers. She continued to glance at the ceiling - or more accurately, the unseen sky beyond it. "She needs some comfort, I think." the science officer's sotto voce observance angered him irrationally.

"And what would you know about Rose, and what she needs." he snapped, with a force he hadn't quite intended. "What she needs is to be home. Which she can't do without my ship. Because my ship - our ship. The TARDIS. Whatever. It bloody well doesn't matter what you call it, because I can't get to it. Well, I can get to it, but not without some answers from you or someone like you, and a good bit of planning and no small amount of luck on my part." his voice was low and dangerous, but Ida merely hiked her left eyebrow further into her hairline in response. She said not a word.

Rose had appeared at his elbow sometime during his tirade. Her eyebrows were in a similar position to Ida's, but a rueful smile was gracing her face. Ida chuckled as Rose grinned up at the Doctor before looping her arm through his once more. "Let's let Ida get a bit of work done, shall we? We'll have all of tomorrow to ask questions. A bit late here, isn't it?" Rose asked, smiling at the science officer. Only the Doctor would have been able to see the calculation behind the warmth in her brown eyes, and he bit back a smile of his own. She was always surprising him.

Ida nodded, checking the chrono above the door to the cafeteria. "Half 10 in the evening, and I've still got a load of diagnostics to run to make sure we're ready to descend tomorrow. Doctor, Rose, please join me for breakfast and I'll do my best to give you any information I can. I should know more tomorrow, anyway. If you'll excuse me..." she trailed off, suddenly distracted by a quiet beep from her wristcomp. "One of my tests is done cooking. I'll see you both tomorrow then. You can sleep in the same room you had been in, it's unoccupied. Galley is through there-" a stubby, somewhat dirty finger pointed to a door behind their heads. "And the Ood would be happy to make you a new sandwich, Doctor." Ida smirked, before wiggling her fingers in a goodbye wave as she scuttled out of the cafeteria. The Doctor glanced down at the plastic-wrapped package, the contents of which had been squeezed into an unrecognisable pulp. He hadn't even remembered he was still holding it.

Rose gently removed the smooshed sandwich from his hand. With a smooth motion, she tossed it into the bin next to the door, where it landed with a wet, squishy plop. "So. Everyone's busy, sleeping, or otherwise distracted. Sound like a good time for some reconnaissance?" Rose's tongue poked between her teeth, and she tossed her hair back confidently over her shoulder. Her pink pyjama pants stood out starkly against the riveted grey floor, the bottoms rapidly darkening with dirt. Her mobile was still clutched in her left hand, her completely intact sandwich dangling between two fingers.

"That's the Rose I know." the Doctor crowed, beaming down at his companion, who returned his smile with all the brightness of a lantern in the darkness.

"Food first, yeh?" she asked, jerking a thumb towards the door behind them. "Since you seem to have taken out your frustrations on that poor chicken salad back there?"

"Rose, if you thought that was chicken salad, you have a lot to learn about the future of Earth food." he said, with a snort of not-so-serious derision. Teasing. Teasing was good, was safe. Normal. Rose's mercurial moods had made him edgy, and he couldn't even think about what must be going on in her poor, jumbled, human mind. He began to reconsider his avoidance of psychic contact with her. Perhaps it would help, after all. Not the time now, of course.

Rose eyed her plastic wrapped sandwich with a suspicious eye before placing it, untouched, in the same bin the Doctor's had disappeared into. "Right, not super hungry anyways. So, first stop?" she rocked back on her heels, hands folded neatly behind her back.

"I'm thinking we should pay a visit to the Ood." The Doctor grinned, reaching out with his right hand for Rose's. The gentle pressure of her small, warm fingers was a reassuring constant. They strode out of the cafeteria and immediately tried to go in separate directions.

Rose laughed as she tugged him to the right. "This way. I can feel it." she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that felt like it should have been familiar. "Just trust me."

Although the anxiety in his stomach roiled with renewed vigour, the Doctor followed Rose with no arguments. He was sure that she did know the way. He just wasn't sure how. Nothing she had done today made the smallest bit of sense, and he was sorely missing the TARDIS' diagnostic systems. If he could just run a few tests on her, make sure she was really alright and that these memories weren't some sort of psychic possession or something even more sinister, he would be a lot more at ease. He resigned himself to figuring out what was going on with Rose the hard way.

"So Rose." the Doctor began as casually as he could, "Got any additional insight into your extra memories? You seem more reconciled to the idea, now." his question was calculated. Rose - the Rose he knew - felt like a book he had read a thousand times. The easiest of reads. Her emotions were worn proudly on her sleeve, her generous heart roomy enough to house sympathy for all beings, even for a Dalek. If she thought for one minute that the knowledge she held was a danger, she would tell him. And he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that it was. His time sense screamed like a banshee, the eternal ring of a claxon. He could practically taste the paradox looming over their heads.

Rose glanced backwards as she opened yet another door. "Not reconciled, really. Jus' ... More at peace? I've got this stuff in my head, yeah? Might as well use it like a tool. Sure it's a bit weird. But maybe I can use it for good. Have things come out better this time." she grunted, twisting the wheel on yet another door. The muscles on her arms stood out against the thin fabric of her tee as the wheel refused to budge. Rose backed away, rubbing her palm over her forehead in confusion. The Doctor moved to assist her. "This one's sticky." she commented unnecessarily, stepping back further to allow him to open the unwilling door.

The Doctor twisted the stubborn wheel once and it groaned open. He stepped back, throwing Rose a sideways glance. "Really. And Rose, you know time is complicated and twisted and sometimes very, very weird. You really should tell me what it is you're trying to accomplish here. It may not be a good idea. Sometimes things have to be the way they are." he was reminded of her father, and an old church. Helpless baby Rose, a young Mickey, the ever-brash Jackie and the danger of their complete erasure. The darkness that has overtaken him, the hollow place where he had screamed and begged Time for a second chance, was not somewhere he wanted to go again. The only reason he stood here was Pete's sacrifice. The bargain he had tried to make with an entity that he both simultaneously embraced and rejected on a daily basis, how he had begged and pleaded the darkness as he railed against his captivity, flashed through his mind_. Let me go back. I'll do better. It's just me, now. It's my job. Let me go back. They'll all die. She'll die. Please, don't let me have been the reason why she's dead. Not her. Let me go back._

Rose rolled her eyes, oblivious to the internal battle the Doctor was fighting, and stepped confidently through the newly open doorway. "Not much further!" she called behind her, pointedly ignoring his last question. She turned a corner with no hesitation. The Doctor trotted after her, shaking his head. Her stubbornness was so frequently an asset, he reminded himself. Tenacious when she thought she was doing the right thing.

"I mean it Rose. You're keeping something from me. And I don't like it." his frustration and irritation bubbled under the surface, barely cloaked. They coloured his voice with a tone he rarely, if ever, used with Rose. She stopped short in the hallway, whirling to face the Doctor with naked disbelief scrawled over her pretty features.

"What makes you think I have to tell you." she snapped defensively, wrapping her arms around herself uncomfortably. "I can handle this. I can kinda tell, yanno? What needs doing." her voice was small, held none of the ire he had expected when she whirled to face him. Rose's eyes were scared and angry and sad. She raised one hand and rubbed above her left eye, a gesture she had repeated many times today. She looked, for all the world, like a sleepy child bargaining for a later bedtime.

The Doctor caught her hand, removing it from her forehead and clasping it between his two callused palms. Rose stared up at him, a mixture of fear and affection and belligerence swimming in her brandy coloured eyes. At least _that _seemed normal. "Does your head hurt?" he asked, softly. "You keep doing that. Have done, ever since this morning. Rose, I thought you trusted me. You've got to tell me what's going on." he gripped her hand with a little more force than he intended, and was chagrined as Rose winced.

"It's just a headache. S'got to be. Maybe it's worse now 'cause we're away from her." Rose maintained stubbornly, placing her other hand on top of their clasped ones, rubbing his weathered skin gently with her thumb. He noticed, for the first time, the absence of her numerous rings. "Though I don't know why that should matter, to be honest with you." she allowed, "Been separated from her before loads of times and it's never hurt like this."

Finally, they were gaining some ground. "Rose, the fact that you can hear her in the first place is worrisome enough to me." there, he had said it. A weight he hadn't realised he had been carrying fell off of his shoulders. Rose stared at him, completely flabbergasted.

"What? Why?" she sputtered a bit, his response confusing her.

"Rose, you're mind blind. Psi-null. Or supposed to be. It's not _bad _that you can hear her. It's just... not right." suddenly, words were failing him, and the Doctor stared at the ceiling in frustration. "Rose, you know I'm telepathic. I knew from the moment we met that you were not. It's not possible, especially for someone from your time period. Human telepathy is very rare, even as time goes on..."

"What about Jack?" Rose said, stubbornly. "Was he mind-null or psi-blind or whatever that was you just said?"

"Jack?" the wrinkles returned en mass to the Doctor's forehead. "Who is Jack?"

Rose gulped, eyes widening. Her palms immediately became sticky and clammy with the annoying response to adrenaline that human bodies had. "Doctor, you know Jack. You were there. London during the Blitz? Are you my mummy? Nanogenes and gas masks?" Rose loosed her hand from his grip and grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into the leather of his jacket. "How can you not know Jack? Jack Harkness? He's a _fact_, Doctor, you can't - I can't -" Rose's eyes rolled backwards as the pain behind her eyes exploded. Supernovas coated the backs of her eyelids, their fire causing her mouth to run dry. She screamed in silence as tears squeezed from behind her closed lids, the ropey muscles of her arms contracted in a rigid spasm as Rose grasped for the Doctor, for stability, for sanity.

The Doctor caught her as she started to sag, fingers flying to her temples in automatic response to her massive psychic pain. He had connected before he was even fully aware of his actions, and found himself brushing the surface of her mind almost instantaneously. He was surprised at her lack of shielding, but he shouldn't have been. How could she have built walls? There was no one to show her how. That responsibility would fall to him - assuming Rose forgave him for blatantly waltzing into her mind with no invitation. Several worlds where what he was about to do merited the death penalty shuffled in his mind's eye. On Gallifrey, it would have been tantamount to rape. There was no time, or opportunity, to ask for Rose's permission. Her body convulsed, twice, and the Doctor knew he had no choice. Damn the consequences – didn't' he always?

Bracing himself, the Doctor gently pushed through into Rose's mind. It was an easy transition. She was cosy, gentle, and colorful like an early spring. He swam in muted blues and pinks and greens, with the occasional splotch of yellow cheer. Open and inviting and oh so warm. He was surprised at the wooden floors that he suddenly found himself standing on, and the battered coat tree in the left hand corner. The walls materialized shortly thereafter, a pleasing shade of green with bright and cheery pictures every few feet. The corridor stretched for ages, with huge oak doors lining either side. Warm afternoon light was diffused behind gauzy white curtains, streaming from a window situated between each heavy door. A spiral staircase was plopped unceremoniously after the last set of doors. The Doctor was fairly sure he had been in a library somewhat like this before.

Despite its grandiosity, it was so very much Rose and it was reassuring to feel her influence here, even when she was so very much not herself. It was good to see that her mind still reflected the beautiful little human girl he knew, and but it would make things more difficult when what he saw was not a maelstrom of scars and empty memories. If the entrance to her mind was still so normal, where was her pain coming from? It must be buried deep in her psyche, maybe even locked too far for him to find.

_Rose! It's me, I'm here. You can come out now. _He called out for her softly. His voice was low and gentle, calm if she needed calming, normal if that's what she was expecting. Her consciousness could be in so many different states right now – he needed to hit the lowest common denominator. Try to get her to explain. Her unconscious mind might hold the key to her salvation. The Doctor murmured soothing platitudes as he took a tentative step forward, just a smidge further into her mind.

And the entire landscape changed. Internal defenses that Rose should never have possessed flung themselves at him, wolves snapping and snarling, gleaming teeth ready to slash and rend. The walls bled and the windows slammed shut. As far as mental constructs went, they were certainly no beginner's defenses. The Doctor lunged backwards, leaping from Rose's mind as carefully and gently as possible. The last thing she needed was an exit wound. Flashes of red eyes and black-marked skin flickered in-between the wolves, and a human body silhouetted against the furnace of the black hole burned brightly as Rose's spring colours faded, to be replaced by her pale face and bleached blonde hair. She was stirring, eyes opening slowly, mouth forming words that were not yet given voice.

The Doctor removed his fingers from Rose's temples with reverence, watching her expression carefully. If she reacted with horror, recrimination, he would never touch her again. He wouldn't be capable of it. It hadn't even been worth it – violating her mind had brought her nothing. He hadn't even discovered why she was in so much pain; much less even begin to understand it.

Rose's eyes filled with tears, and the Doctor's heart was shattered. He backed away quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor and as far away from her as casually possible. Rose coughed, sniffled, and wiped the tear tracks from her face. A shaky exhalation, and she was reaching out for him. He could see her hands in the corner of his eyes, blurrier than normal but still recognizable. Her face was hidden from him, and he could accept that. He didn't deserve to meet her gaze.

When he failed to pull her into the embrace she was longing for, Rose scuttled forward, taking it for herself. Her arms wound around his neck quickly, not giving him the option to pull away. Her legs stretched out awkwardly, one to the side and one bent behind her as she went boneless with relief, burying her head in the crook of his neck. The Doctor couldn't return her embrace with the intensity he desired. He held her carefully, fearing when the words would come tumbling out of her mouth. She wouldn't have understood the horror he had just perpetrated – of course not. How could she? No precedent, no mental manners. She screamed her emotions for all the word to hear, she would never have seen his intrusion as the invasion it truly was. That didn't make it right.

He didn't even realize she was speaking to him for a few precious seconds.

"Doctor, I felt you!" She babbled, warm lips moving against his cool skin, dry hair tickling his nose. She smelled like cocoanuts and a bit of floor. She had been there quite a lot. "Oh lord, I did. It was so dark and twisting and winding and I felt for sure I would lose myself in the teeth but you were there and I _felt_ you like a storm and lightening and ozone and then the pain was gone and here I am again and why did you go, how did you _do_ that?" she sniffled, and he stared at the wall in shock, hands moving in an unconscious circle against her back. He had never felt her consciousness, but she had been close. He should been able to sense her, dammit! What was going on in her head?

He could feel a response to her question forming, but before it was given a chance to be voiced, the door to their left creaked, the damnable metal voice announcing its intent to inflict them with the presence of another human being. Danny stood in the doorway, panting and terrified. "You two, get in here. Someone else needs to see this – the Ood have – they are – just come on!" He gripped the collar of the Doctor's jacket, trying to haul him to his feet. "Just _shift_!" He looked down the corridor in a wild panic, looking ready to bolt.

Rose scrambled away, struggling to her feet and bounding through the door. The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed, but rose with less urgency. He would follow her – of course he would. There was never any other option for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Here I am again! Sorry for the wait - writers block is a jerk sometimes. Let me know what you think! :)_**

Rose was jubilant. Exhilarated. Ecstatic. The brief moment of absolute clarity she had experienced when the Doctor's mind touched her own had given her purpose like nothing else could have. Her strange memories, while still not her own, were starting to make more sense. Things were slowly sliding into place, and the throb above her left eye was beginning to abate. Rose was beginning to see the lines, the progression, and the scope of all the possibilities in front of her. And things were so much clearer.

She fairly bounced to the overlook, fingers curling around the battered orange metal of the railing. Rose smiled serenely down at the seemingly peaceful Ood. She knew why Danny was so afraid, even if the reasoning for it was beyond her comprehension. She understood, rather than knew, that the monitor to her right was describing the mental activity level of the Ood. What should be reading a nice, calm Basic 5 was reading Basic 30. Rose almost fancied she could hear them - a shout, screaming inside their heads. A faint fuzz in her own, almost like static, reinforced her observation. She wondered if the Doctor would pick up on it, and turned around to look for him.

Her alien in question strode in behind her, the thunderclouds on his face making Rose shiver. The words Oncoming Storm breezed through her mind, and Rose blinked in surprise, but the flicker was gone as soon as it had come. The icey blue of the Doctor's eyes brought her back to reality, lightening cracking inside of them almost in time to the pounding of her pulse in her ears. It was all she could do not to shrink away. Something was wrong, and he was angry. Was it at her? What had she done?

Rose pushed her bewilderment aside as the Doctor approached her, noting with some surprise that some of the tension had left his shoulders and a quirk returned to the corner of his mouth as he did so. That wasn't something she should have picked up on - none of this was. When had she become so damn observant? Her mind was a jumbled flood of minutia again as her overloaded senses heard the creak of his jacket and the odd syncopated rhythm of his hearts. She could practically smell the fear and confusion from Danny and the stink of whatever it was that now wasthat inhabited the bodies of the Ood. Ancient and angry and evil and trapped and _danger, and_!

Rose struggled to shut it off. The deluge of information she wasexperiencing felt like a thunderstorm in the summer - all or nothing, littering her mind with a hail of observations that meant nothing, but somehow everything. The headache was back with a vengeance, the calm she had felt just a few moments ago evaporating.

The thud of the Doctor's boots echoed on the grating as he stopped at the railing beside her, blocking her view of the monitor. "Basic 30?"He asked Danny, an incredulous twist to his tone. "This is not a lightlevel of telepathy as your captain described. They're bloody screaming." the Doctor growled, turning on Danny with anger written in every line of his posture. The smaller man had the good sense to back away and look sheepish.

"Bloody hell mate, that's not normal, why else would I have called you in?" he ran a hand through his dark hair, watching his charges with a wary eye. "You think I'd be in a panic if this was something I saw every day? They're supposed to register Basic 5. I come in, do some work, and look over at the monitor and..." Danny shrugged, helplessly. "They aren't even showing signs of distress. They're just... Sitting there." He joined Rose on the railing, looking down at his fifty aliencharges. Rose almost felt bad for him. For having passed months under the maw of a black hole, it appeared that his life was almost depressingly stable.

The Ood chose that moment to stand and turn to face the group on the bridge. Their glowing red eyes held a kind of alien malevolence that shook Rose to her very core. To her left, Danny threw himself backwards, hitting the wall behind them with a dull thud. Rose felt like she would have joined him, if not for the Doctor's large hand stilling her movements. He was transfixed by this most recent development, even going so far as to take a step forward. Rose hung back, allowing his hand to slip from her upper arm to grip her hand. She had no desire to get closer to the Ood. She knew what they were capable of. She thought.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked, no hint of malice or condemnation in his tone. Only curiosity, wonder, and interest. The naked awe in his voice that was always present when they encountered something unknown warmed Rose's heart and did much to quell her terror. Sometimes, it was so easy to remember why she loved him so well. Less so when he was setting cannibalized toasters on fire.

"We are the legion of the Beast. The legion shall be many, and the legion shall be free. You will worship him." Fifty modulated voices resounded in the small space in perfect harmony. Rose thought Danny's muffled profanity summed the situation up quite well. She chanced a glance backwards, trying to reassure the frightened worker. He was already scuttling towards the door, but the warning in her gaze stilled him. He nodded, once, poised to run but waiting for their signal. Rose returned her attention to the Doctor, and the hoard of Ood below their feet.

"Excuse me, you're whom?" the Doctor said in his falsely chipper voice, the tight-lipped smile that usually accompanied the tone making his mouth appear small and hard.

Rose knew that tone well. It was the one that meant he was about to tell her to run for her life. Rose didn't have to be told twice - she was more than ready. She widened her stance slightly, squeezing his hand briefly. His light return pressure confirmed Rose's suspicions regarding the gravity of their situation.

"He has woven himself into the fabric of your life since the dawn of time. You will worship him." the Ood said, simply. The memory of Toby's red eyes began to eat away at the lining of Rose's stomach, and another puzzle piece slid into place. She knew what was coming next.

"Toby." she whispered, turning back towards the door in horror. "Doctor, we have to find Toby." She gripped his hand tighter, lifting one slipper-clad foot as she began to run for the hallway. Her limbs felt like molasses. Time hung thick and heavy in the air around them.

For once, he didn't ask questions. He didn't even look at her. Didn't blink. The Doctor only turned, trusting her completely. As soon as Rose's foot hit the grating, the alarms began to blare. A voice she had not yet heard, but the Doctor and Danny responded to almost immediately, sounded over the internal PA system.

"We've got trouble." the voice said, simply, in what might be the understatement of the day. The floor beneath her feet began to shake,and Rose's blood ran cold. They were too late. "The base is open. Everyone to the common area, go! Check in on your comms when you reach it. Move it!"

"That'll be Captain Zachary." Danny yelled behind him as he launched himself down the hallway. "Nice man. Not usually prone to understatement. This is the second time today we've had shocks. Last time we lost your ship. This time..." he trailed off as they rounded acorner, Rose barely avoiding hip-checking the far wall. The Doctor was silent, the death grip he had on Rose's arm the only sign he evenfollowed them. Rose smelled ozone, and her left temple throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Her legs felt heavier and heavier with each step, and she went from leading the charge to allowing herself to be pulled behind the Doctor. He simply adjusted his stride to accommodate hers, barely glancing at her until they barrelled through the final door into the common area.

Danny slammed his palm down on the door close, and leaned against the cold metal, panting heavily. Around them, the Base shook, metal creaking and groaning with the strain of the tremors rippling the skin of this impossible planet. Danny raised his comm to his mouth, chest still heaving. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, but he ignored it. He spoke into the wristcomp, depressing a button on the left side. "Danny here, I've got the Doctor and Rose as well. I see Ida in the corner, and John - no sign of anyone else yet, though. Has anyone heard from Toby? Scooti?"

"Scooti is showing as being in Habitation Three. Go check for her - she's stationary. Might have been injured." Captain Zachary's voice is terse, clipped. Rose can hardly blame him. It's not been a good day for Sanctuary Base.

Rose began to walk towards the left hand door, hearing the Doctor's footfalls behind her. Ida rose from her perch and joined John in the corner, Danny chosing to walk over to John instead of following them. Rose pushed through the door, ignoring the tinny voice and wishing for a loudspeaker to she had hackles, they would have been raised. Her senses were on full alert, and something felt off. Again. This day just needed to end, already.

Rose scanned the room, frowning. The Doctor stood next to her, the blue light from his sonic showing that he was doing his own kind of scan. Bathed in the cool blue glaze of light, The Doctor stalked around the perimeter of the room, Rose following him like a shadow. He peered into corners, under crates, in tight spaces. They wound inwards from the perimeter, making sure they covered every inch of the small space. When they had finished, they stood in the center of the room, mere inches apart. With a sigh, the Doctor ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. "Well, the sonic is showing her wristcomp as present. Zachary was right. But I don't get it, Rose, she's not here!" his voice trailed off as he eyed the switch of the ceiling cover. He caught Rose's gaze, and a horrified understanding passed between the two of them. She knew he had seen the horrible scenes play out in her head - at least the two important ones. She had made sure of it. The tumblers had slid into place in the lock for him, now, as well. He knew what was behind that screen as well as she did.

"Doctor, you don't think..." Rose panted, swallowing hard. The breathiness of her voice gave credence to the panic, the cold sweats, the shaky hands that had already manifested themselves. She knew what was beyond that metal sheeting - she just didn't want to believe it.

The Doctor shook his head, shoulders slumped. He turned towards the switch, hand poised to depress that horrible little button. He paused at the last moment, turned to face her with resignation and sorrow written in the lines of his mouth. It broke her heart.

Shame burned within Rose's chest, and she gently moved the Doctor's hand out of the way to slam the switch her own small hand. This was her responsibility, not his. She has failed. She had failed to use the gift of her knowledge to stop Toby. She had known - known! What he was capable of. And she had been too stupid to connect the dots. And her stupidity was the cause of the death of an innocent. The Doctor's ancient gaze held far more understanding and sympathy than Rose was willing to accept. Was this what he felt, whenever something went wrong? She remembered his rare grin, unabashed and elated, as he gripped her shoulders and told her that everyone had lived. The nanogenes dancing in the air behind him had looked like fireflies, but his purely happy smile far outshone their brilliant glow. But that day hadn't happened for him, had it? How long had he gone without a day filled with death?

The screen slid back with an agonizing slowness. Rose dropped her gaze, unable to watch the scene unfold above their heads. The Doctor moved closer to her, bracing his hands on her shoulders as Ida and John stepped through the open door, alerted to the development by the sound of the pneumatics. Ida's face was a rictus of horror, and Rose's stomach lurched. She had failed them all. Danny hung back, looking first to the Doctor, then to the sky. Rose reluctantly followed the path of his thousand yard stare.

The lively little mechanic was a dark shape silhouetted against the inferno of the dead star. Her eyes were open in death, her face slack and peaceful. The tangled waves of her hair haloed her pale face, waving like seaweed in a gentle ocean current. It was an image that had been stamped into Rose's memory without reason, but now it was burned into her retinas with the intensity only experience could provide. She could live a hundred years, and never forget the face of the woman she had allowed to die. Murdered. She was a murderer. Guilt swam in the pit of her stomach, and Rose wanted nothing more than to turn her head away and bury herself in the dark leather of the Doctor's jacket. She did not. That luxury was not for murderers. Killers. The weak. She did not deserve the comfort.

John raised his wrist to his lips, his voice a hollow whisper as he opened his comm channel. "Security Officer John Jefferson, reporting to Acting Captain Zachary Cross Flaine. Mantinence Trainee Scooti Malista, reported deceased." Only static crackled on the other end of the line, the poor acting captain at an obvious loss for words. Jefferson closed the comm channel with a snap, the only sound audible in the room.

"She was only twenty." Ida said, finally dropping her gaze from the ceiling. Jefferson patted her shoulder, awkwardly, clearly at a loss to offer any other form of comfort. Ida's worn face was even more lined, now. Her little family that she had so obviously been so proud of was in shambles.

Lips moving of their own accord, as if in some type of trance, Rose softly recited a poem she had never heard before. "For how should man die better than facing fearful odds for the ashes of his father and the temples of his gods." The Doctor was staring at her, she knew. Rose didn't have to see his face to know he was shocked.

She couldn't even manage surprise anymore. She was slowly resigning herself to the fact that her body was no longer her own. She was just a vessel. She felt empty, and tired. Hollow. Longing for someone to make sense of the debris-scattered mine field that was her mind, to untwist the twisted timelines that felt so wrong in her head.

Behind her, the Doctor gently depressed the switch, closing the metal skin and allowing Scooti to drift in that eerily peaceful manner towards the black hole unobserved. The crew merely switched from staring at the ceiling to staring at the floor. No one seemed to know quite what to do with their hands. Silence stretched on, the gentle hum of the atmospheric controls the only noise in the small living space.

Toby chose that moment to barrel through the door, sweat coating his shirt to his back, eyes wild and chest heaving. Rationally, Rose knew that his skin was unmarked, that his sad eyes were clear green and not red. But she could see nothing but the blood on his hands, the hatred in his eyes that came from the ancient evil that was causing all this trouble. In that moment, she surrendered a fight she hadn't quite realized she was waging. The brandy light left her eyes, and she wrenched free of the Doctor's grasp. Rose Tyler stormed across the room, finger pointing imperiously at the bewildered archeologist. With the fury of an avenging angel, power written in every line of her small form, she bellowed "Murderer!" into the face of Toby Zed.


	11. Chapter 11

**_back again, loves! thanks again for all of the reviews. story is heating up! I think I have all the details ironed out, now, so barring a sudden strike of writer's block expect another update shortly. :) let me know what you think, or if I've made something a bit too weird!_**

The Doctor had seen many horrifying things in his life. Death and destruction and ruin - some he was the cause of, and some he had simply been powerless to prevent. The blood of his people dripped from his fingers, a stain that would never wash off no matter how much he scrubbed. The gaping wound that his actions had left oozed and festered inside of him, guilt-infected, angry and red, never turning into a proper scar. How it _ached_ him.

How many good, decent people had died in his name? How many lives had he ruined simply by his presence? How much damage had he done in the name of helping? He had made too many hard choices. And yet, the universe kept asking him the same questions, over and over. _What would you do to protect what needs to be protected? How far will you go? What are you willing to sacrifice?__  
_  
He decided that he had, perhaps, lived for too long.

He had felt Rose's descent into madness moments before it happened, possibly before she herself had even sensed it. The gentle glow he had felt ever since she had woken this morning was gone, and it had robbed the light from her spirit. Rose's warm eyes, which had always held a welcome for whomever she encountered, were hard and cold and soulless as she charged across the room, finger extended imperiously, teeth bared in a grotesque mockery of a snarl. The easy fluidity of her movement was replaced with a predatory stalk, the lines of her small body held taut and stiff.

The universe was asking him a question, and he had to respond.

As She-That-Had-Been-Rose screeched her accusation at Toby, an accusation he knew to be true, the Doctor could see the options presented to him. Jefferson was already drawing his weapon, and it was clear he was training it to Rose. She had already proven herself unstable with the crew - it was only logical. He couldn't blame the man.

Two paths diverged before him, the one he should take and the one he must.

It was the missile at 10 Downing Street, the Dalek under Utah all over again. He could save his pink-and-yellow girl, of course he could. But at what cost? Rose had become dangerous. He had no way of knowing if what was controlling the Ood was controlling her. If he tried to save her, it could posses him. Could he risk it?

What a bloody stupid question.

Lunging forward, his rough hand caught the sleeve of Rose's tee. He spun her around, anger and purpose leading him to be rougher than his usual inclination. She faced him then, mouth agape, eyes empty and cold and so terribly angry. Everything that had made her a value to him, all of her endearing humanity, was vanished from her precious face. And it was his fault.

Of course it was. It had to be. He had brought her here.

That made his next actions very easy, indeed.

Without hesitation, his right hand flew to Rose's temple, catching the points of contact instantly. He threw his mind into hers as he watched her eyes roll back into her skull, and felt her body sag. The Doctor flung his left hand out, palm up, a supplication and a warning to Jefferson and the rest of the crew. He could see the security officer lower his weapon, nodding as he did so. Ida's eyes were filled with tears, and Danny simply stared, hands hanging impotently at his sides. He was vaguely aware of Zachary screaming for an update over the comm, something that no one seemed ready to give. He couldn't focus on that, now. He allowed the three figures to his right to become white noise as he sank further into Rose's mind.

He was not gentle this time as he blasted through rudimentary mental barriers. Temerity had got him nowhere. May Rose, wherever she was, forgive him. He would certainly not forgive himself.

The beautiful hallway was gone. In its place lay its carcass, windows shattered and doors hanging open on broken hinges. The gauzy curtains were in tatters, slashed and torn. The Doctor ran through the hall of Rose's mind unimpeded, whatever had stopped him last time no longer present. Or no longer caring. He wasn't sure which possibility was worse. Seeing the splendor of her mind laying in shambles around him took it's place in the gallery of horrible images that he had borne witness to.

Heaping insult on injury, the sound of Rose's weeping ached in his bones.

Her cries came from everywhere and nowhere, surrounding him but intangible all at once. In equal parts it wounded him and galvanized him. Somewhere, his precious girl was still alive. Whatever had taken over her mind had not obliterated her consciousness like it had savaged her memories.

He did not have the luxury of the time needed to truly restore Rose. Or the necessary support. He needed the TARDIS for that. The loss of his ship burned him, and the Doctor's face twisted into a grimace as he resisted the impulse to slam his fist through a wall. A cloying sense of defeat mixed with the bile in his stomach. Powerless. Trapped. As he stood stock still, trying to control his impotent rage, Rose's statement from earlier today tickled his memory. The Doctor's scowl turned into a wry grin.

A plan crystallized before him as he strode past open doors, watching Rose's childhood memories float through the hallway like fallen leaves. He would save her. He would not let her die. Not here. But first, he had to find her.

Rose's cries would have an origination - even here. It was just easier to twist fact into nightmare within the boundaries of a mind. Whatever was controlling Rose's body - and holding her consciousness hostage - was surely masking her true location. Rose herself may not even be aware of her whereabouts or situation - there were just so many horrific crimes one could perpetrate within a mind.

Closing his eyes, he shut off his senses, one by one, until all that remained was his sense of hearing. It was a handy trick, and one not taught on Gallifrey. One more thing to thank his wanderlust for. Rose's cries, unhindered by the tricks her possessor was using to disguise her true location, were clearer than ever. But the Doctor knew that if he opened his eyes, she would vanish again. He was going to have to do this the hard way. Carefully schooling his features into a mask of neutrality, he took a step forward, hands firmly at his sides. No touch.

"Rose!" the Doctor bellowed, relief washing over him as her sobs abated, giving way to a hiccough instead. He could have laughed aloud - nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that silly little noise. "Rose, if you can hear me, keep talking. I'm coming to get you. I can't see you, but I know you're there. Do you know where you are?" his voice was calm, reassuring, making him sound far more confident than he really was. He took a step forward, moving slightly to the right.

"Doctor!" the naked relief and trust in Rose's tone broke his heart. He was not deserving of such sentiment. "Doctor, I'm sorry... I don't know where I am. And you need to stay away." her voice quavered, but she was vehement.

"Can't do that, Rose." the Doctor said with false cheer as he took another step in utter darkness towards the source of her voice. She was close. He felt her now, her warmth and tenderness and acceptance as strong as ever. As well as her fear, and her conviction. Oh, his fantastic girl.

"Doctor, please, you've _got_ to. Jus' listen to me!" the Doctor imagined Rose's face creased into her familiar scowl and smiled despite the gravity of their situation.

"Doctor, I know what's happened now. To me, I mean. And I'm sorry, I'm _so sorry_, but I can't tell you. It's too dangerous. And you have to leave. Go, right now, and find the TARDIS. You can reach her, you know you can, and you know why you have to even if you don't realise it quite yet. But you have to leave right now. She's listening, and right now she doesn't care, but she will soon."

The Doctor stiffened, his calm mask slipping a fraction. "She who, Rose? Who's hurt you?" he growled, quickening his pace towards the sound of her voice.

"Doctor _stop_!" Rose screamed, voice filled with distress. "Go! Doctor, if you trust me at all, for once in your life you'll listen to me, an' just _go_!" her voice cracked, hitching up a notch with what must be pain. It was all he could do to stop himself from running to her, crushing her to his chest and damning the consequences. But sometimes, they were there for a reason. The Doctor stopped, raising his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

If he opened his eyes, he knew what he would see. The Doctor could feel Rose, all of her emotion and spirit and panic floating like a miasma in front of him. What would happen to her if he opened his eyes? Would she vanish back into the ether? Could he chance it?

To be so close, and to fail - it burned him. He stepped forward one last time, ignoring Rose's strangled protest. "Rose, I can't just leave you here." he pled, his confidence falling away. He knew the facade had chipped enough. She could see the dread, the desperation, the determination that he was warring with. Rose could always see right through him. Why hide from her?

"Doctor, you've got to." Rose's words were simple. They hung in the air with a sick finality that he refused to accept.

"What kind of monster am I, Rose, if I just sod off and leave you?"

"No monster at all. Doctor, I am here. I am fine. Right now, she's not interested in me. I'll be alright. But if you don't go, you _won't_. And I can't, I just... I would die if something happened to you because of me! And it will, you daft old alien, if you don't get out of my head! Leave me, keep my body asleep, and find the TARDIS. You're the most brilliant man I know. You can put those pieces together. I trust you to save me, Doctor. Do you hear me? I trust you. Now trust me, and let me save you_. Please_!" He could hear her panting, hear the rough beating of her single heart. Every bit of energy she had was pressed into her impassioned plea for him to go, to leave her. How could he ignore it?

His shoulders sagged, and he lowered his hands, turning them palm up in a gesture of supplication. "I trust you, of course I do. I'll go, Rose. I'll go. I'll find a way to fix this, I promise."

"I know. Doctor, I -"

Whatever Rose was about to say was lost in the sudden cacophony of sheer noise. The agonised, otherworldly howls that came from nowhere and everywhere nipped at the edges of his sanity, completely obliterating any other sounds, any other rational thought. It was weaponised.

In pain and surprise, the Doctor opened his eyes.

He would never have expected the tableau that greeted him. Rose hung in a vortex of what he was nearly certain were their timelines. His all-too-familiar greyscale and the same muted colours he had seen in her antechamber were so intertwined that their sinuous fibers held her fast with no hope of movement. But it appeared that her prison was of her own design. Rose's left hand was balled into a fist, holding three strands together with another two. Her right hand was in a similar position. She hung in perfect suspension, holding them in place. Keeping Time from falling apart at the seams. The gilt of the Time Vortex swirled around them, moving to encompass him as he stumbled to his knees. It shouldn't have been possible.

The Doctor had long ago stopped believing in the existence of the truly impossible. Having one's beliefs put to shame on a regular basis would do that for a person. He mental remanded himself to only using the word "unlikely" from now on. Especially concerning Rose.

Rose was staring through him, her sightless gaze turning more golden with every passing moment. As the Vortex around them grew, her shoulders straightened, her grip on the filaments of their lives tightening. Their lives, if she let go, would snap out of existence. She arched her back, becoming once more something other than Rose Tyler. And all the more dangerous for it. This wasn't just her body; this was the very essence of her spirit. Her mind hung in the balance.

The Doctor knew the source of her clouded memories, her headaches, her sudden telepathy, all too well. A little bit of the Vortex was running through her head and the sheer magnitude of it should have killed her. She should have been burned by the energy that was too foreign for her body to process. But somehow, instead of being consumed, she had managed to harness the power, taking their lives into her small hands. Seeing the path offered to her, rejecting it and stamping her foot, she had made her own. That was his fantastic girl - simply too stubborn to roll over and die.

Despite her obvious predicament, the Doctor still suspected there were more to Rose's current troubles than met the eye. He needed the TARDIS. Oh, did he ever need the TARDIS. He lurched to his feet, taking a few faltering steps backwards. The Doctor knew he must leave, that whatever held Rose would have noticed him by now, but it went against every fiber of his being to leave Rose as she crucified herself on the Vortex.

Rose's strange eyes cleared for a moment, piercing him more surely than any arrow. She yelled one word. Just one. It didn't need saying.

He tried to respond, to tell her something, anything, before she was locked away from him, but the words were whisked away. He was thrown from her presence immediately, buffeted and buoyed on his way back to reality by the maelstrom of wordless howls. With the last of his strength, he cast out a command, one that would not be able to anchor in the mind of Rose Tyler, pink-and-yellow human girl. But it would take root and flourish in what she was becoming.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys! Here we go, it's heating up a bit ;) we're starting the final stretch - depending on my verbosity I would expect fiveish more chapters. I think I can wrap it up by then! As always, reviews make my day - let me know what you think!**

The Doctor came to awareness after slamming into one of the cafeteria tables, the dead weight of one Rose Tyler landing on top of him as they crumpled to the ground. He lay still, for a moment, savoring the feel of the row of rivets digging into his spine. Cold, hard Reality was always so refreshing after being in someone else's mindscape for too long. He groaned, attempting to straighten but finding no strength in his limbs. Typical. He had expended most of his energy sending Rose into a healing trance. By the warm pressure of her body on his chest, it was obvious that it had worked. She was out like a light. Despite his relief that she was slumbering seemingly peacefully, his last-ditch attempt at putting her there should not have been successful. Humans, though susceptible to psychic suggestion without question, would not have been able to enter the high-level healing coma he had slipped Rose into. Only high-functioning telepaths would have been able to achieve this particular state. What was his poor girl becoming?

Ida's presence snapped him from his musings. The little science officer was beside him, gently removing Rose from his chest. Even after their abrupt and unexpected arrival, Rose's outburst and her erratic and puzzling behavior, the older woman was still treating her with respect and care. He didn't have to be an excellent judge of character to know that Ida Scott was a gem. Tenacious, forgiving, wonderful humanity. The human race was often so much more remarkable than even he gave them credit for.

The Doctor grabbed Ida's weathered hand before she could make too much contact with the near-lifeless body sprawled ungracefully across his bulk. He had to check for any kind of mental signature from her. Anyone with any kind of minute sensitivity should touch Rose - not till he knew exactly what they were dealing with. The science officer did not even flinch in response to his gentle query. Not a stirring of telepathy. Safe.

"She's... She's very ill." the Doctor croaked, clearing his throat and surprised at the dryness he found. His mouth felt like he had licked a desert. And he would know - licked lots of things, him.

Ida nodded, the hard lines of her face softening as she gently shifted Rose's body from his chest to the floor beside him. Rose looked both older and younger than her nineteen years. She was pale and still, slack in her slumber. Her horrible pyjamas completed the illusion that she was only taking a very inconvenient kip on the floor. Her bottle-blonde hair fanned out beneath her head in a way that looked achingly familiar - but it shouldn't. He was glad her eyes were closed. Seeing her eyes so changed somehow cemented this whole catastrophe into a reality. He would carry the memory of her warm, brandy-coloured eyes contrasted against the soulless gold they had become. It was his fire, his drive. The memory of Rose sacrificing her humanity to the capricious whims of Time roiled in the pit of his stomach, so much coal stoking the fires of an unstoppable engine. If he failed, Rose was done, and he was lost. He was in the unique position of a man who had both everything and nothing to lose.

Rolling over and supporting his weight on one elbow, the Doctor allowed himself a brief moment of reprieve as he caught his breath, feeling his body begin to recover from the trial he had just put it through, his heartsbeat returning to its usual steady quatro. Absently, almost without thought he brushed a bit of Rose's hair away from her forehead, his rough fingers lingering on her cheekbone longer than was strictly neccesary. Her skin was cool to the touch, almost tacky with perspiration. It was the only outward sign of the war that raged behind her closed eyes, beneath layers of skin and bone and transcending all physical limitation. Somewhere intangible, Rose Tyler was doing the impossible and holding their reality together.

It was as if a switch were flipped. He put away the mystery of Rose's time sense, chosing to focus instead on the immediate problem of their destabalizing planet and whatever lurked on it's surface. The Doctor sprung to his feet and began pacing, his frenetic energy causing room's other occupants to take a massive and somewhat wary step back. He was a tangle of limbs and jacket and burgundy jumper, he fizzled like an electric storm. His movements were erratic and uncoordinated, jerking as he began one train of thought only to dismiss it almost immediately. The Doctor was planning.

After a seemingly endless series of false starts and quiet moments of brooding contemplation, the silence broken only by the ringing of his boots on the grating, the Doctor spoke. "Right. Ida, drilling's done, you're about to set down on the surface, yes? I'm going with you. No arguments. My ship is down there. Everything hinges on her. We find her, we solve this, we get you lot off this rock. Are you catchin' this, Captain?" the Doctor paused in his pacing of the room, whirling on his heel and sending his heavy black jacket spinning around him as he asked his question to the ceiling.

"Reading, Doctor, but -" the disembodied voice started.

"No arguments Captain!" he said cheerily, resuming his measuring of the room via footfalls. "Danny, you will handle the Ood. Lock them up, tight as you can. There's something here, something malevolent, and anything with a bit of telepathy is susceptible. Thats what happened to Toby."

The silence in the room was a physical thing as Toby's name dropped from the Doctor's mouth. He exhaled sharply, looking at the towheaded young man currently cowering in the corner. Toby's distrustful eyes boiled with a muddle of regret and fear as he regarded the alien towering over him. The Doctor sighed. "Toby, I can fix this. Trust me. Try to remain calm. You can control this. Remain true to yourself. Find what matters to you, what makes you feel, that little whisper that makes you Toby Zed, and whatever else happens, don't let go of it. Alright?

Without waiting for a response, the Doctor whirled to face Jefferson. "You. You're in charge of Rose. She's the crux of this. If something happens to her, something happens to all of us. Ive only got one instruction for you, just one. But its a doozy. Don't let her wake up. I've forced her into a healing coma, but the thing that's in her head might just be able to break it. If that happens, restrain her, subdue her, drug her if necessary. But I swear by everything you hold holy, if I come back and there's one hair on her head harmed that didn't need to be, Jefferson, you will absolutely live to regret it." the Doctor was inches from the man's face, bristling like a wild dog. A lesser man would have cowed. Jefferson was anything but.

"Doctor, I don't do anything without knowing the ins and outs. I think I deserve a better explanation then that." Jefferson crossed his arms and stared down his nose at the Doctor, a feat he somehow managed to achieve though the two were of a height. The silvering hair of the security officer did not belay a mellowing temper, that's for certain. Still, the Doctor had sussed Jefferson out. The man would be nearly unshakable once his faith was placed in an ideal. The Doctor attempted to squelch his irritation at being questioned - did no one realise just how clever he was? - and humour the man for the sake of the dying human girl.

"Jefferson, I don't have time for your macho posturing. Lives including your own are at stake, and haste is more important than making sure your damnable curiosity is satisfied. Rose has something in her head. She's dangerous when she's awake. Possessed, if you will. Same with Toby, but it seems to have moved on from him for now. Rose is locked in with it, trying to fend it off. She will lose, it's only a matter of time. I've given her the best chance I can, but it won't mean a thing unless I can get to my ship." he ground the last syllables out, stalking towards the door and motioning for Ida to follow. The woman looked at Jefferson as if for guidance, moving only when the security officer jerked his head towards the Doctor in an angry motion. She ran through the doorway, her shorter legs working twice as hard to match the Doctor's purposeful stride. They were out of sight before Jefferson could add a parting comment.

The grizzled man shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with a weathered thumb and forefinger. "You heard the man, Danny." he said, wearily, "Round up those damn Ood. Get back here immediately when they're contained. We'll be going to the launch pad, but we're traveling together. Do not under any circumstances go alone."

Danny nodded mutely, far past words. Fear made his limbs jerky and uncoordinated as he shuffled from the room, muttering an old prayer under his breath. Jefferson waited until he could no longer hear the sound of doors opening and closing before he removed his hand from his face. The poor blonde archaeologist was still crouched in the corner, staring at him with glassy eyes. Didn't look half human anymore. Wasnt human anymore. Jefferson quelled the sudden impulse to throttle the man. The man who had killed Scooti, that sweet young woman who had been everyone's friend. He had snuffed her life out. Him. What right did he have?

Jefferson swallowed slowly, reigning in the anger and desire for revenge that clawed at his throat. He had his duty here. Watch over Rose, and watch over Toby. From the man's body language, he doubted the archeologist would be up to any great amount of resistance. He had the stooped posture of a broken man, shamefaced and horrified at what he's done. The Doctor's words smacked him in the face, and he was momentarily ashamed. If what he had said was true, Toby hadn't stood a chance. It hadn't even been him. The jury was still out on whether it was to be believed or not, but if Jefferson was anything, he was fair. And cautious. He sighed. He was truly getting too old for this.

"Toby, stop looking like I'm about to shoot you, boy, it's unnerving. Come over here, sit where I can see you - NOT there, away from the girl - that's a lad. Now just relax. Nothin's gonna happen to you, and once Danny returns we're going to the shuttle, and once we've got everyone together and Ida and the Doctor are back from their fool's errand we're out of here. I am pulling the plug. D'ya hear, Captain?" Jefferson fairly yelled, sitting down hard on a cafeteria bench. His heart thundered erratically against his ribs. He was definitely too old for this.

"Does no one remember who is actually in charge here? I read, Jefferson, but -" the speakers crackled, the Captain's reply cut off by a sudden onslaught of static and the short, three-chime tone of an emergency broadcast.

Ida trotted along gamely, her much-shorter legs struggling to match the Doctor's long stride. He stalked ahead, not once glancing behind him, not bothered with her condition in the slightest. Ida didn't much blame him. The weight of the world was pressing squarely on his shoulders, and she wasn't sure if even his broad ones were up to this particular task. He had taken on the responsibility of saving their lives, his own life, the life of the girl he loved - Ida was many things, unobservant was not one of them - and she wasn't sure this was going to be a goal he could achieve. The quiet desperation in his eyes when he said goodbye to the lifeless girl, which had not been present when he was storming about the room, announcing his plans to the crew, told Ida the true story. This was, to borrow an archaic Earth expression, a 'hail-Mary'. He was low on time and even lower on ideas. This was their only shot, but that didn't make it a good one.

Ida had always known she would die in space, and the thought of death didn't strictly bother her. It was the idea of how she might go in this particular scenario that was making her palms sweat. The image of poor little Scooti, drifting towards the inexorable pull of the black hole, would remain with her forever. That was not a way she wanted to go. Nor was possession. Ida was grateful to the Doctor for dragging her along. Always had been the kind of woman who preferred action to inaction, pacing to curling into a ball. At least this way, she would die on her feet, doing everything in her power to keep the family she had cultivated here safe. She would be able to spend the rest of her life compensating for her failure, for cutting Scooti's life short. She had convinced the girl to sign on, see one of the wonders of the galaxy. Saw a bit of herself in the penniless twentysomething, wandering till she found an anchor to latch on to. Would that she had turned her away on the spot, made her return to her estranged family. Hindsight is always perfect vision.

Ida quelled her guilt, placing it aside before it crippled her. It does not do to dwell on the past, and forget to live. Didn't she read that somewhere, once? It fired her resolve, allowing her heartsickness to slide into the background. When the numbness wore off, there would be time to mourn. But there were other tasks to be accomplished. There were still people relying on her, and she would not fail them.

They passed through the final door, the Doctor pausing once inside. Ida ignored him, walking over to the lift controls and keying in the surface sequence. There was no time to waste. If they needed to find this damn box that he swore was a spaceship and would save (not to mention fit!) several full-grown humans, then find it they would. Even if her faith was lacking, it still eclipsed her desire to sit around and wait for death.

"Doctor, cabinet to your left!" Ida called, glancing to the computer that was pinging steadily and impatiently in an effort to attract her attention. "Grab two suits. Mine has my name on, you should fit in Captain Zachary's. Suit up, I'll be right over." her index finger selected a setting as she twisted the dial to her left, reading the surface scans and descent plan that she had read over a hundred times before. As far as she could tell, the instability had caused no major changes to the little pocket of the planet they would be visiting.

Ida left the computer and scurried to the cabinet, wiggling into her spacesuit with practiced ease. Grabbing her helmet as she leapt into the cage, she scowled at the Doctor as he finally finished pulling the orange suit over his hips, his heavy boots discarded in order to fit into the slightly more streamlined ones that attached to the suit. "Thought we were in a hurry." she teased, irrationally proud that the tremor in her chest did not translate into a shaky voice.

"I'm coming." the lanky man groused, zipping up the suit at length and snatching his own helmet from the shelf above before joining Ida in the cage. "Ready for this?" was that a shade of ghoulish excitement?  
Ida noddy wordlessly, pressing the almost cartoonish red switch that dropped the cage to the surface. The Doctor leaned against the wall of the cage, his helmet clunking awkwardly against the metal grating. The first segment of the airlock opened below them, the cage making it's slow descent towards the surface. Ida puffed out an aggravated breath, wishing for room to pace. The thirty minute descent to the bottom would test her resolve, and her stomach. She could already feel the first stirrings of the turmoil that her nerves were creating in her belly. Ida wiped her palms on the legs of her spacesuit as if to dry them, but the anxious sheen of sweat remained inside of the thick, insulated gloves.

The Doctor's piercing blue gaze landed on her as the door of the airlock closed above them, and the cage ground to a halt as the room prepared for depressurization. "Still with me, Ida?" he said, no hint of judgement coloring his tone as his voice crackled in their helmet comm. "Not a huge fan of spacesuit walks, me. As a rule I prefer my breathable air to not come from a tube." his nonchalance was rewarded with a reluctant burst of nervous laughter as Ida wished she could run a hand through her hair, and settled for a gloved hand on her helmet instead.

Before she could respond to him properly, a three-pitched emergency tone chimed loudly in their ears, causing both of them to flinch. The Doctor stiffened, drawing himself up to his full height. His brow wrinkled as he waited for the message that was surely to follow. "Jefferson? Captain? This is the Doctor. We're almost through the airlock. Is everything alright?" the evenness in his voice did not match the tension in his shoulders.

In a horrifying, mellifluous chorus, the voices of fifty Ood chanted in union over the loudspeaker. "We are the legion of the Beast. We are many, and we will be free. The pit is open. You will worship him."

The Doctor cursed, fluidly, in a language that Ida had never heard before. Her legs failed her, and she leaned against the left wall of the cage against her will. "Why." he challenged the disembodied voices, his tone sharp with anger. "Why should we worship him? We don't even know his name. He is not our master, we are not his legion."

"You know him by many names. Krop Tor. Satan. Lucifer. The Deathless Prince will bring you peace, and you will worship him." the eerie chorus infiltrated Ida's bones, froze her heart. She was unable to move a scant muscle. The errant thought of 'I didn't sign up for this.' festered in the corner of her mind as she drew in a panicky breath, the suit's supply of dry, metallic air suddenly not nearly enough.

"This is Zachary Cross Flane of Sanctuary Base 6, representing the Torchwood Archives. Identify yourself." the Captain boomed over the tinny loudspeaker, ringing with authority as if this ancient beast would comprehend his position.

"You know my name. I have told you my name."

"What do you want?" undaunted by the beast's staunch refusal to give what Zachary considered a satisfactory response, he plunged on.  
"For you to die." the response was immediate, chillingly calm, and devoid of inflection. "All of you. This planet is your grave."

The Doctor jumped in, cutting of Zachary's indignant reply. "If you really are the devil, then tell me this." his Northern burr was remarkably more pronounced when he was aggravated, Ida noticed through her almost surreal haze of fear. "Which one are you? 'Cause while you've been sleeping away on this impossible planet, there've been an awful lot of others answering to your name. Lots of other people have feared you - that's worship, so' of. Why've you been languishing here while so many others have stolen your followers?"

"I am all of them."

"How's that, then? You expect me to believe that you're the original? Not from where I stand! I've been from one end of the universe to the other, fronts and backs, starts and ends, and never have I ever seen you." This man was either crazy and lying, or telling the truth, and Ida wasn't sure which one she preferred right now. She opted for whichever one meant the would all get out of this planet intact, to face the years of therapy that would surely await them back home.

"I am before time."

The Doctor scoffed outright. "There's no such thing. Know time pretty well, me. And big ears don't make me a dumbo, mate."

"I am before time. Before space and light and matter. Before the cataclysm. Before this universe was created." the Ood-as-one chorused, almost smugly.

"That's not possible. You said it yourself, before matter. Nothing can exist outside of time." despite his strong words, his surety suffered a moment.  
"Is that your religion?" the voices were almost mocking.

"Its a belief, of sorts." the Doctor said coolly, fingering something in the pocket of his jumpsuit. The atmosphere had finished venting, but Ida had not yet pushed the control to release the car. She wasn't sure she could move.

Chillingly, the Ood-as-one laughed. "This one knows me, and I know him. The killer of his own kind. The coward who runs away and away and away. I see your valiant child, struggling against a pull she cannot deny - she will fall in battle so soon."

At the Beast's words, the Doctor went very still. His bulky gloved fingers gripped the diamonds shapes in the wrought metal hard enough to deform their shape. "You're a liar." he growled, barely contained rage simmering under his skin. "You leave her alone."

"She is not mine to leave." the Beast said, simply. "I see you all. I see you all, and you are nothing. A captain, afraid of command. The little boy who lied. A man haunted by the eyes of his wife. The virgin. And the little girl, still running away from Daddy." the voices were calm, even, collected, and Ida was anything but.

"How can he know?" the terrified whisper escaped her lips before she was even aware of its creation.

"He's playing on basic fears, Ida. Any one of us can fit any of those descriptions at some point in our lives. Don't listen to him." the Doctor's response was anything but reassuring, and Ida felt the next words tumble from her mouth before she could stop them.

"What does it mean?!" she asked of the beast, sweating palms gripping either side of her thighs as she sought something, anything to hold on to to stop reality from crashing down on her.

"It means you will die, and I will live."

"Liar." the Doctor growled with finality, removing his hands from the bent grating only to ball them into fists at his sides. Silence stretched, and no response from the Ood to the Doctor's accusation echoed in their tinny helmet speakers. Ida caught her breath, forcing the nausea to return from whence it came.

"Doctor? Ida? It's Danny. The Ood are normal again." the scared boy's voice was calmer than Ida would have given him credit for. "Ive secured them for now. Luckily before that last outburst. Heading back to your location, Jefferson."

"Ida, Doctor. You two have an half an hour on the surface to find that damn blue pillbox. When that half hour is up, I expect you back on the cage returning to ship. We're going to execute Strategy Nine. Ida, do you copy?" Zachary's voice was full of anger and fear - not a good combination for anyone, but surely not a man in command.

Ida nodded mutely, before realizing that there was no way Zachary could see the motion. She rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly as she gave the man an affirmative.

When the comm went silent, Ida pushed the button to allow their final descent an stood as close to the middle of the car as possible. The Doctor was eying her from his corner, leaning against the somewhat mangled grating with a nonchalance she was sure he didn't feel. His blue eyes sparked as he fiddled with something in his left pocket, the oblong outline visible in the crease of his spacesuit. "So, Ida." he began casually. "What is strategy nine, and why do to get the feeling that the situation upstairs is much more dire than they've chosen to tell us?" his cold blue eyes were calculating, and Ida gulped.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Hey guys. Thanks for bearing with me through my slow updates! Both my husband and I are undergoing job changes, and we just celebrated our first anniversary! It's been a hectic month. I am excited to feel the end of this story coming on - I've enjoyed the journey immensely. I hope you have too! I apologise for yet another type of formatting, sigh. When I complete this story, I am going to update all the formatting to match, I swear! It's all over the place_.**

The Doctor's intuition was not wrong. Danny stood over the bodies of Ida's research assistants, panting heavily and leaning against the locked door behind him. He was lucky he had made it to the door. He was lucky that he had managed to deadlock the damn thing. He was even luckier that those two heading beneath the surface had managed to believe his shoddy acting.

Ida didn't need the distraction of knowing Tuck and Anne were dead. Or that the Ood had killed them using their translation spheres, of all the things! The problem was contained.  
Maybe if he kept telling himself that, it would be true.

"Jefferson," Danny started, pausing for a moment to wipe his forehead with the back of his sleeve, pushing a large lock of jet hair out of his eyes. He squinted as he ensured that the channel he had opened was local only, and would not connect to the Doctor and Ida's helmetcomms. "Jefferson, I'm heading back. I'm fine, but uh... Tuck and Anne, they..." his voice wavered as he gulped, unable to complete the sentence without his gorge rising. Tuck's hazel eyes, glazed with the film of those recently dead, stared up at him holding an accusation he was unable to deny. Bile rippled in his throat.

"Understood, Danny. Just come on back." Jefferson was terse, businesslike. He had shifted from watchman to warden. Danny could practically hear the gears grinding in his brain as carefully constructed scenarios were coming together. He had joked with Anne, once upon a time, that the perpetually grouchy Jefferson didn't sleep, but ran through drills in his head instead. Now, he hoped that unkind comment held a nugget of truth.  
Silencing the comm channel with a snap, Danny bent down and closed the two pairs of eyes, one hazel and one green, that looked on forever into the unknown. It was as much for his sake as it was theirs.

-break-

Ida trotted along obediently after the Doctor, lost in her own thoughts as the man loped from rock to culvert to gully searching for that damnable blue box. They had been down for fifteen minutes now, running solidly with half of their allotted time gone and still no sign of the mysterious spaceship inside the huge cavern their tunnel had opened up to. Ida anxiously checked her chronometer. It was the halfway point - they had to turn back.

"Doctor..." Ida began hesitantly, carefully picking up her clumsy feet to avoid the large rock he had tripped over a moment ago in his bullheaded charge from one hiding place to another. "Doctor, we need to start heading back." she made her tone as gentle as possible. The man was grieving, desperate for any solution to their problem. She knew how that felt.

He turned to face her, panting with exertion as his breath fogged the tempered glass of his helmet. His voice was thin and tinny in her comm, but his intent came through loud and clear. "You can go. I'm staying." He jogged away in the direction of the next crater, scowling.

Ida followed at a slightly more sedate pace, conserving her air and her energy as she crunched along the dark grey dust of the cavern's surface. "Doctor..."

"Don't even start, Ida." he muttered, scrambling down another culvert to check for that damnable ship. "Circumstances have changed and you know it. You can't tell me that this doesn't alter your perception of events just a bit?" he gestured at the gigantic hole to their right. The hole that up until this point she had been successfully ignoring. The wound in the almost uniform dust made Ida distinctly uncomfortable. It skulked in the shadow of the ancient facade carved into the crumbling rock, the gaping maw encircled with the same strange writing as had been on the tablet Toby had been studying. Ida swallowed reflexively, the sight of the fathomless blackness giving her gooseflesh.

"'The pit is open', that's what the Ood said. This has something to do with what's going on." he clapped his gloved hands together, a noise Ida recognised from memory rather then any sensory input. A comical whiff of grey, sooty dust puffed out from between his fingers as he did so.

"Adapt, Ida! A beautiful, very human trait necessary for survival." the Doctor had already clambered back up to her side, and was dusting his gloves off on his pants legs. He hadn't even broken a sweat. Despite his deep breathing, he appeared to have simply been for a stroll rather than careening haphazardly through the craggy ruins of an otherworldly civilisation.

"Whatever is causing this is, without a doubt, down there." the Doctor pointed for emphasis. "And that's our key to getting out. It's quite obvious now that the TARDIS is down there, as well. That lovely little hole is the awnser to all of our questions."

Ida had a very, very bad feeling about this. "Doctor, we don't even know how deep this pit is, our oxygen may not last... And they're waiting for us uptop, and they can't take off until we're back!" she was surprised at how petulant her tone was. Like a spoilt child.

The Doctor chuckled softly. It was a sad laugh, not meant to amuse or comfort. Wry. That was the word she had been looking for. Ida did not like this laugh. "Ida, they can't leave. Don't you see?" he pointed toward the culvert he had just scrambled out of, and the one to their left, and right, and behind them. "This planet truly is impossible. And it's suddenly realised that. It's destabilising quickly. If they leave, the rocket will be the final straw for this planet. Whatever holds this rock together is crumbling. The gravity field will collapse before they even have a chance. They'll never escape the pull of the black hole."

Ida battled back her nausea. Yorking in her helmet would not help matters. "Shouldn't we tell them?" she said quietly, unable to tear her eyes away from the menacing depth before her feet. The silver grey of the dust that coated its sides made it appear as if it were, indeed, the maw of a giant beast, slavering in anticipation of a long awaited meal.  
"Would worrying them help?" the Doctor asked softly, and Ida shook her head, and wondered why she placed her trust so completely in this mad man and his blue box.

"Jefferson won't take off without us. He'll be mad, and we'll have a lot to answer for, but Jefferson wouldn't leave us behind. Not unless the situation is dire." Ida glanced behind her to the culvert the Doctor had just stepped out of. It was deceptively stable looking.  
"In my experience, it's always better to leave someone hope, even if it's just the illusion of hope, until it is absolutely necessary to remove it." the Doctor's voice was firm, and wise, and suddenly so much older than he seemed. After a moment's pause, he clapped a big hand on Ida's shoulder and guided her towards the wound in the planet's crust. Their heavy boots crunched on the gritty surface of the planet's crumbling surface as they made their slow, painful way forward. Ida's headlamp shone bravely into the depths. The blackness stretched on forever, swallowing the pitiful little beam with the intensity of it's hunger. As she realised just how far the pit truly went, the blood in her veins turned to ice and Ida knew the true meaning of terror.

-break-

She was trimming a rosebush. The sky overhead was cloudless and serene, the air was warm with a comfortably chill breeze that blew a few soft strands of hair away from her face. Birds sang, bees buzzed, and over all the smell of roses permeated the air. It was beautiful. A true vision of sedate romanticism.

With a prenatural knowledge, she raised her orange shears and gently snipped off a dead flower head. 'Deadheading', a familiar voice whispered on the breeze. 'remove the old so the new may bloom.' the voice was comforting and steady, and she had no compunction to resisit it's gentle mantra as it swirled through the air. It repeated on an endless loop around her, mingling with other voices, all murmuring comforting and calming words she could not distinguish. She was at peace. She snipped off another deadhead, smiling at the deep pink rose next to the old one. Now, this one would have the resources to thrive, and grow even more beautiful.

She smiled serenely, while inside the part of her mind that remained her own was laughing. It was a desperate sort of laugh, the sound of dry bones rattling against damp rock. The heavyhandedness of the metaphor she was trapped in was her lone source of amusement. It had been the only method her mind had conjured up in order to cope with the phenomenon that ached in every sinew of her body that hadn't been dismissed out of hand. It made as much sense as anything to her pockmarked, addled psyche.

The orange shears snipped the head from another bloom, the dull petals falling to the ground. The dream construct laughed gaily, undisturbed by the implications. Her true self shuddered at the death before her, and mourned her futility even as it railed against her forced inaction. But she was already doing everything in her power. Clutched in each hand were strands of reality, and they bit deeply into her palms.

-break-

Ida was swinging her legs into the blackness of the pit. Amazing how comfortable one could get with certain death if given no recourse. It had been roughly forty minutes since they had approached the pit, thirty since they had attempted to descend, twenty since they had given up, and ten since the Doctor had cut his line and just... dropped. Ida refused to believe he was gone. He had told her to wait for him, and so she would. His ice blue eyes had sparkled at her as he hung from the line that now lay slack at her side, asking her if she believed in the devil. He had been full of life and mystery and reckless hope and Ida wasn't giving up on him yet, she just wasn't.

She could hear Jefferson's angry voice crackling over her comm, but the words were indistinguishable over the flood of panic and anxiety in her mind. She could hear nothing but noise, see nothing but blackness, taste nothing but metal, feel nothing but fear. And she was so alone.

"Ida... Ida! Ida, dammit, answer me." Jefferson's growling voice finally penetrated the fog, and Ida gasped out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, then immediately catching it again in order to stifle a sob. This was not like her.

"Ida... I can hear you. What's gone wrong? You two are over an hour late. You need to head back, now." Jefferson was calm and soothing, and Ida knew he was trying to hide his panic. For her benefit. Oh, John.

"John..." Ida tried to speak, surprised and horrified at the creaking noise her vocal chords produced. "John, we've run into a problem. The Doctor's working on it, but we're going to need more time." lies.

"What kind of problem, Ida?"

"Not a big one." she lied, surprised at how easy they were falling from her lips. It was the blackness of the depths beneath her boots. "Just give us some time, yeah? I would explain, but -"

"Just conserve your air. Come back. Check in when you're on the way." the gentleness in his tone both comforted and shamed her, and words failed her just as the comm channel went dead.

Ida resumed her watchful guardianship over the pit as an icy truth lodged in her throat. If the Doctor had been able to check in, he would have done. His silence was unnerving.

-break-

Jefferson stared at his wristcomp, the swear on his lips dying as he looked at the three figures before him. Toby's cowering form, Danny's rangy unease, and the too-still body of the strange young woman, who's breathing had slowed to a rattle over the last forty minutes. All depending on him, and his actions. Or inaction.

He sighed, pushing thoughts of Ida away for the time being. There were other more pressing concerns, even if his heart disagreed with his gut. He clapped his hands, causing the two men before him to jump. "We stick to the plan. We're going to the launch pad, and we'll wait for Ida and the Doctor there. You heard her - hopefully they will be up soon. It's all we can do right now." the words stuck in his craw, but he saw no other option. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

Kneeling carefully, he gently picked up the body of Rose Tyler, who was a lifeless weight in his arms. She sagged bonelessly, arms falling out to the side and long blonde hair draping over his left arm as he settled her head in the crook of his elbow. Her slumber and her pink pyjamas gave her the illusion of a sleeping child, and her still face endeared her to his father's heart. He thought of a girl far away and long gone.

A banging at the door snapped him from his reverie, and he reflexively pulled Rose closer to his chest as Danny drew a small weapon from a pants pocket. Toby hunkered even closer to the floor, a gesture Jefferson had thought impossible previously. He was practically prostrate against the cool tiles.

"We must... feed." the mechanical voices of the Ood permeated the metal of the door easily.

Danny cursed colourfully as he pocketed his weapon and gripped Toby roughly by the upper arm. "I locked them in!" he growled, hauling the terrified archeologist to his feet. "You're connected to them, tell me you aren't you lying sonuvabitch!" he was inches from Toby's face, ravening like a mad dog.

Arms full, all Jefferson could do was lash out with a booted foot, kicking Danny sharply in the shin. "We don't have time for this! Into the hallway, now!"

Danny dropped his gaze momentarily before spinning on his heel and throwing open the far door. He thanked whatever deity was listening that the cafeteria lead off in two separate, sealed off directions. Toby stumbled along behind him on numb legs, eyes wide and frantic as Danny dragged him down the hallway. Jefferson lumbered along behind, kicking the door shut and awkwardly punching in the master override code, deadlocking the door behind him. Shifting Rose further up his shoulder, the security office barrelled down the hallway, making the sharp left turn towards the launch bay with the metallic tang of fear heavy in his mouth.

-break-

Twenty more minutes had passed since Jefferson's last word hung in the air, and Ida had made up her mind. Sitting did no good. It had only increased her panic and unease. The Doctor was still beyond reach of the comm, whether by happenstance or something a bit darker. Ida was a woman accustomed to action, and she felt the weight of lives aboard the Sanctuary Base as they settled on her small shoulders.

Her cumbersomely large, gloved fingers fiddled with the bulky clip that attached her to the line she was dangling from. She was suspended in the dark, her cheery yellow harness nearly the only swath of colour she could see. Ida twirled gracefully, feeling a bit like a kite on a string, stuck in a tree. She just needed to be freed.

She smiled up into the darkness, at the chronometer-sized blot that marked the opening of the maw that she had allowed to swallow her. It was not the sky she saw in her mind's eye, a purple blanket spotted generously with green, fluffy clouds. Home was too far away for memories of picnics and games to be of much comfort.

Ida laughed, but there was no one to hear it. Her clumsy fingers closed one more time on the clip, and with a pinch and a twist she was flying.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! Fairly fast this time! Lots going on in this chapter. We're in the home stretch! Let me know what you think**.

It was pointy. Yes, that was really the only word for it. Pointy and hard. Oh, and hot. That also applied. Ida sputtered out a breath, lungs burning as if she been underwater for far too long. Not an uncommon feeling for her, growing up near a lake. She remembered her purple sky, and tried to puzzle out where she was through the smokey haze that being unconscious brings. Her mouth was dry and tasted vaguely of ash. Smacking her lips, she decided that wherever she had landed was not an ideal spot. Ida tried to move, but found her limbs too sore to be of much use for the moment. She contented herself with trying to open her eyes instead. Something had to be beyond the blackness.

She prized one swollen eye open, and immediately wished she hadn't. The room - a room? - canted appallingly to the left, and then twisted as if going down a rather large drain. Her late dinner threatened to resurface, and she concentrated solely on making sure that didn't happen. Vomit was never an easy thing to deal with in one's helmet.

Helmet?

Ida's eyes flew open in earnest, noticing for the first time the shattered glass around her face. In a blind panic, she reached for her mouth, gasping in a wet and ragged breath. And then another. And another. Pulling herself into a sitting position, Ida sighed with relief. Against all odds, there was air.

And also, the Doctor.

A few feet away, a twisted body in an orange jumpsuit just like hers lay in a crumpled heap. Ida's heart sank. If he hadn't moved in the hour he had been down without her, then that wonderful, impossible man must not be capable of it. He had exuded energy since the moment she had met him, not even 24 hours ago, and to see him so still was a stark contrast. The last flicker of hope she had allowed herself to keep once she realised her situation sputtered and died.

Ida swiped at her face, fighting away futile tears. They wouldn't help her, and if she was going to die she was going to do it bravely. Honor her parents, her family. She almost wished there hadn't been air. It was a far kinder death to simply suffocate in the ether of unconsciousness rather than endure the madness of starvation.

Steeling herself, Ida pulled her battered body carefully to her feet, wobbling a bit on her bruised calves and disused knees. Her back ached, and Ida was pretty sure that the grinding in her side was a broken rib. Nothing fatal, but certainly uncomfortable. She had no idea how far she had fallen, but somehow she knew survival should not have been an option. There was something else. Some exterior force had decided that her life was worth saving and the Doctor's was not.

A few untidy steps, and she collapsed again by the Doctor's side. His helmet was similarly smashed, and a few pieces of glass were ground into his too-pale cheek. The area around his left eye was bruised and bloodied, the skin so swollen she was sure his eye would not open. A thin trail of blood trickled from the Doctor's temple, dropping with extreme indignity off of the tip of his large nose. No other injuries were visible, but Ida knew enough to know the injury to his temple was probably enough. Ripping off her gloves - the air was fairly warm down here, this close to the planet's core, and her fingers already felt thick and swollen with the heat - she laid a hand on the Doctor's too-still shoulder and gently rolled him onto his back. With deft hands, she removed first her broken helmet then his own, wincing at the dried blood caked in his close-cropped hair. Ida raised her hand to take his pulse, but the futility of the gesture stung. She bowed her head in defeat, hand coming to rest on the Doctor's shoulder.

In her misery, it never occurred to her to see where the light that illuminated the sad little tableau originated.

-break-

Jefferson kicked the final door shut behind him, cursing the automated voice that announced his actions and slamming his palm down on the code pad to deadlock the door. Rose's head lolled to the left as he carefully deposited the girl on the floor, straightening slowly with an aching back. Definitely too old for this.

Toby's arm was still firmly in Danny's grip as the dark-skinned man woke up the computer with his free hand. The beleaguered archeologist looked resigned, but something lurked in his dark eyes that Jefferson did not like. He was not convinced that whatever inhabited the Ood was no longer inhabiting him, hang whatever the Doctor had said. The boy was not right.

Danny was growling with frustration, slamming his fist onto the console. "I still can't raise Ida or the Doctor, Jefferson. It's like they've just disappeared. I get no signal at all."

"Keep trying." Jefferson ground out around the lump that had formed in his throat. "She'll respond. She always does. Just give her time."

The comm overhead crackled, and the somewhat shaky voice of Captain Zachary filtered down from the metal grating. "Hope you lot are a damn sight better than me right now." He paused, swallowing heavily. "I've got a whole host of Ood outside my door and I've got a bolt gun with oh... one bloody bolt."

Jefferson cursed colourfully. "Captain, do you have air vent access in your room? We need to start considering other options."

"It doesn't matter, Jefferson." Zachary's voice was thin, brittle. Like the thin crust of ice on a lake's first frost.

"Of course it matters, dammit! I don't leave people behind."

"It's not your choice, Jefferson. As your Captain, I am ordering you to get the shuttle ready and launch as soon as possible. According to my computer, the planet is rapidly destabilising. You don't have time, and you need to leave as soon as possible. I mean it. That shuttle needs to leave in twenty minutes or its not leaving at all."

"He's right." Danny said in resignation. "The planet's breaking up. Whatever's holding it together has given up." He muttered something under his breath that was either a prayer or an epitaph, Jefferson couldn't be sure which.

As if to illustrate their point, another earthquake rocked the base. Jefferson was driven to his knees on the rough grating, moving to shield Rose's body with his own. All around them, the base creaked and groaned, the sound of metal shearing off grating in their ears. The sound of alarms blaring distantly turned Jefferson's stomach.

"We've lost Section D entirely." Captain Zachary's disembodied voice roused the three men from their positions on the floor, Danny pulling himself up to verify his comments. A silent nod to Jefferson was all the confirmation the security officer needed.

"Captain, we don't have much time. Get your arse into the air ducts, and come up in the next uninhabited room. Danny will follow you on the computer and guide your path."

Danny broke in, fingers hammering away on the touchscreen. "Captain, duct access is in the wall to the left of the door. Get in there, go down and left, and keep going. I'll tell you when to turn."

"I swear, you people try my patience. Does no one respect my command?" It was a grumble, but a good-natured one. The sound of a grating sliding aside creaked through the speaker, and the Captain's voice came through, along with the sounds of elbows and knees banging along. "Alright, I'm on the way."

"Listen to Danny, Captain. I am not losing more people today." The brief beat of silence that greeted his statement meant that everyone had understood his unspoken message: that Ida and the Doctor were gone.

-break-

To Ida's everlasting surprise, the ice blue eye next to her blinked open, and the bloodied lips curved into a grim mockery of a smile. "Ida. Fantastic."

"Oh my god, Doctor, how in the world-" whatever she wanted to say was cut off as the Doctor pulled himself into a sitting position, wiping the blood from his noise and spitting a glob of gook into the dust to his left. "You should be dead." She said bluntly. No sense beating around the bush.

"Oh, really? Time Lord, me, we're full of surprises. Some even I don't know about." He winced as he touched his temple, narrowing his eyes at the sticky red wetness that his fingers came away with.

"You hit your head harder than I thought. Time Lords are a myth." Ida's brow crinkled in concern, and she began rifling through concussion treatment methods in her head.

The Doctor barked out a laugh, straightening his legs with a muffed grunt. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that. Respiratory bypass, two hearts, superior senses, accelerated healing abilities, tiny little ship that travels through time and is bigger on the inside. What's that old Earth saying, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck then..."

"It's probably a duck." Ida supplied, holding out her hand and helping the Time Lord-who-she-didnt-believe to his feet as a shudder rocked the ground. "But -"

"No butts, Ida Scott! Haven't the time to argue. Aren't you the least bit curious?" He spread his arms, grinning like a madman.

"Curious about what?" Ida ran a hand over her hair, puffing out a breath. "The fact that we're still alive? That you don't have a massive brain haemorrhage? The exact probability of us getting out of here?"

"Yes, who says I don't, and slim. But Ida, think a bit smaller. Why is there light?" The daft grin widened, made only slightly more ghoulish by the swollen left eye and bloodied face. The mad sparkle was back, and Ida dared to hope for a different outcome.

"The light? But we're... Underground. And it's dark up top." Ida felt her face go slack as she considered the possibilities, and turned around to face the strongest point on the flamelike glow that cast shadows around the floor of the pit. It illuminated a path up a steel-coloured steep hill, and the figure of the Doctor as he scrambled onward.

"No time to waste, Ida!" He called behind him, motioning her onward. She grinned, and began her own charge up the hill, lagging just slightly behind the Doctor. They crested the hill together, the only sounds the crunch of the ashy gravel and their sharp intakes of breath. They paused at the summit, Ida placing her hands on her knees and leaning over to catch her breath. The air was thicker here, and almost oppressively hot. Each breath she took felt like it only did half the work necessary. Her lungs screamed for breathable air. Ida looked up from the ground, and the smart remark she had ready for the Doctor died on her lips. She abruptly stopped taking in any breath at all.

The huge, cavernous room housed a monster that she had refused to believe in for most of her adult life. He roared in silence, straining against the huge metal chains that bound him at each limb, and around his thick neck. His body was on fire, his skin crackled like volcanic rock, blood running like magma down they valleys of his wounds. Huge black horns curled around the back of his head, and the whole room stunk of sulphur and burnt flesh.

She could vaguely make out the Doctor as he ran towards the figure of the devil, silhouetted against the inferno as he came to a stop between two short pillars. He was shouting up fearlessly at the epitome of pure evil. Ida wondered if that man even knew what the word fear meant, and then she remembered the look in his eyes when he said goodbye to Rose. Of course he did. Right now, he just couldn't allow himself to care.

Ida straightened, mastering her own fear and crossed the few, eternal steps to stand by his side. Her skin burned like fire from the intense heat of the burning Beast before them. She viewed the monster with a clinical detachment that she was both proud of and confused by. The terror seemed to have left her, against all odds. Her hands were dry, and she did not tremble as she looked upon the devil of her childhood catechisms.

The Doctor was animated, pacing, gesturing wildly with his hands. Thinking. He turned to address the Beast with a wicked glint in his eye. "You're imprisoned. Have been for a long time. Before the universe, after, sideways, in-between, it doesn't matter. Your prison is absolute. It's eternal. And if you were to escape, to somehow open the prison, the gravity field collapses. This planet falls into the black hole! You escape, you die. Fantastic!"

He paused, a shadow crossing his face and dampening his exuberance. "But that's just the body. The Devil is an idea. In all those civilisations, you're an idea. But an idea is hard to kill. An idea is mobile, infectious, possessive - but that's it! You didn't give me air, your jailers did! They need me alive. Because if you're escaping, then I've got to stop you."

Realisation dawned on Ida. "Toby."

"Exactly. Ida, you're fantastic. He studied the tablet, he read the writing, he opened the window. And you possessed him. And he's about to soar away and you'll live. Only you won't."

The devil roared inarticulately, his true voice hundreds of miles away in the body of a scrawny man who had loved his books. Ida was suddenly horrendously angry. It wasn't fair. Toby was gentle and kind and funny, and now she knew he was gone forever.

The Doctor grinned, the light from the burning Beast turning his visage into nightmare. "Ah, but you think you've got me cornered. You know - you can see through Toby's eyes. You know she's on that ship, too, and if I destroy you then she will die alongside you. But that's where you're wrong. Rose Tyler is many things - but she is not a victim."

-break-

Jefferson could barely hear over the blaring of the base's alarms. He was vaguely aware of himself screaming for Zachary to hurry up, and Danny yelling that the shuttle was ready. His heart felt dead inside his chest as he contemplated leaving Ida behind on this impossible planet to die. Sentencing her to a horrible death that he could only hope was slow and painless while be rode away, safe in a shuttle, to start his life anew while hers ended.

He was almost relieved when the headcount had come up one too many to fit into the tiny shuttle. It gave him an excuse. Danny had reluctantly agreed. Toby hasn't said a word.

He pulled the Captain bodily from the air duct with five minutes to spare, ripping the man's shirt on the rough edge in his haste. He hauled him across the room, ignoring his protests, and strapped him into one of the passenger seats without a word.

"Jefferson, what -" Zachary sputtered, but he had no words for the Captain, not yet. He was too busy lifting the boneless form of the young girl into the seat beside the senior officer, strapping her in with utmost care and gently adjusting her head. Toby cowered in the far seat, and Danny began firing up the thrusters that would send the lifeboat away from the dying planet.

Jefferson stepped back, saluting the enraged Captain. "I can't say that it's been fun, sir, but it has been something. Report back. Make them know what a mistake this trip was. Is. Has been." He fumbled over his words, desperately trying not to make himself seem weak. "Make them understand."

The Captain nodded. "You know I will, Jefferson. You're a good man. The best. John, I won't let something like this happen again. I'll remember you, and Ida, and everyone. Even that strange man who tried to save us. Even when I still don't have a answer for Torchwood about how the hell he got here. I'll tell them the truth, and the chips will fall how they may. I owe you that, John." Another quake rocked the base, stealing any other words before they could be said. Jefferson staggered to maintain his balance. The groaning of the damaged metal intensified, and he figured that it would not be long until he joined Ida. He welcomed it. The final wave of the quake caused Rose's head to smack sharply into the headrest, and the loud crack of her skull that was heard even over the sounds of destruction was sickening. Jefferson moved back to her side, carefully wiggling his palm beneath her head and attempting to assess the damage.

At his touch, her eyes snapped open. Her formerly warm, honey brown eyes glowed from within with supernatural brilliance. Golden light illuminated the cabin of the small shuttle, casting light on the four men watching the girl beside them with fear and trepidation. The Doctor's words haunted Jefferson, chief among them the warning to keep Rose asleep. He had failed everyone. The Doctor, Rose, Ida, Tuck, Anne, everyone who died today was gone because of him.

He bowed his head in shame.

Time slowed. Danny was screaming something, and Zachary was pointing at Toby, whose face was twisted into a manic grin. The man's face was a twisted rictus of malice, his eyes boiled red as blood and arcane black marks writ on his pale skin.

Jefferson, for his part, was still as a stone. Through his fingers, he could feel Rose Tyler. Everything she was. Had been. Could have been. A song hummed through his veins, a song of life and impossible love and loss and utter destruction, spoken in a language one felt rather than understood. Rose's blank golden stare was filled with benevolence, with malice, with retribution and absolution. It was hypnotic, and he was trapped in the infinity that was her gaze.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was gone. Toby had slumped down in his seat, head lolling to the side. His chest did not move. Three sets of short, panicked, panting breaths broke the silence as three beating hearts struggled to normalise. Zachary leaned over, and with shaking fingers checked Toby's pulse. He shook his head, and Jefferson could do nothing more than climb into the seat left vacant by the girl who was no longer human. The girl he had failed. He was empty and full, broken and healed. Ida's smile warmed him, and he closed his eyes.

Time returned to its normal progression, and Danny pushed the final button with an air of unbelief. All around them, the planet roared.


	15. Chapter 15

**Guys, we are really almost there! Thanks for bearing with me through this wait. I started a new job at a law firm last week and its been a roller coaster. I'm thinking only one or two more chapters remain! Let me know what you think!**

The unmistakable sound of thrusters firing reverberated in the underground chamber, shaking loose a shower of rock and dust from the increasingly unstable walls surrounding them. The Doctor gripped Ida's shoulder in his strong hand, keeping the human woman on her feet as the planet shook apart above their heads. He barely restrained himself from leaving bruises along Ida's collarbone in his angry desperation. Their options had just been drastically reduced, bringing the count of their viable courses of action down to one.

The ground beneath his feet bucked and groaned, and the beast in front of him chuckled, a dry creak of rock grinding against rock. A second quake, a blast of light, and its fiery eyes were blazing with power the likes of which even the ancient Time Lord had never before witnessed. It was heat incarnate, the birthplace of anger and malice twined in conflagration before them and daring the two mortals to burn with him.

The Doctor stood his ground, hand on one of the pillars, fingers carefully uncurling from Ida's shoulder as the floor stopped moving for the moment. The scientist maintained her cautious balance, determination emanating from her harsh posture. She kicked viciously at a particularly large rock that had fallen on the toe of her heavy boot.

"Tell me how to kill this thing." she said plainly, gritting her teeth in anger. Despite himself, the Doctor grinned.

"Those vases on the pillars hold some kind of enchantment or containment field transmitters or some other sciency whoozymadoodle - doesn't matter what we call it, jus' matters that it works. If we smash them, the planet's gravity field is destroyed, we and everything around us falls into the black hole, done and dusted." the Doctor stopped as another growl from the monster before them rattled his bones. He hoped Ida would connect the dots without him having to spell it out. Smart girl, Ida.

Ida's brown eyes slid closed, lines of worry burying themselves around her mouth and crows feet spreading around the corners. She aged twenty years as he stood there, precious seconds ticking away. When her eyes opened again, he knew she understood all too well the consequences from the tears that glittered in their edges, and the solemn cant of her mouth. The lives their actions would take were nothing compared to what they would save. Their own lives meant nothing stacked against worlds.

A roar from the beast made her wince, and turn to face the nearest pillar. She was haggard, resigned, beaten. But, when she caught his gaze, a slow grin of acknowledgement lightened her eyes, her white teeth oddly offset in her dust-coloured face. It was a look the Doctor had known well, had seen many faces over the course of his long lifetime wear it. It was the expression of one embracing their fate, and glorying in their sacrifice. Ida was staring death in the face, and she dared to smile. He loved the indomitable human spirit.

He thought then of Rose. Not that he had ever stopped thinking of her - but now her grin lit up the corners of his mouth, her laugh released the grip panic held on his chest. The Doctor tried not to think of her still body on the floor in the cafeteria, looking so undignified in her pyjamas. It was the not the last image of Rose Tyler that he wanted to see. She deserved to be remembered as so much more. She deserved so much more than the hand he had dealt her.

The Doctor closed his eyes and bowed his head, defeat burdening his shoulders. With his next action, he would snuff out her bright candle. He would have failed her. Taken her thousands of years from her home, trapped her, killed her. A mother would mourn her daughter the rest of her days, never knowing her true fate.

He was a curse, and he faced his own death with open arms. He deserved to die for what he had done to Rose, after she had brought him nothing but light and warmth and occasional happy confusion. He was a destroyer of innocence. He was the worst kind of disease.

His bloodied hand went to the vase, and the Doctor spared a quick glance towards Ida. She was mimicking his actions, making her own sort of peace. He could barely hear the name John tumble from her mouth, the syllable dying almost as it was spoken. A whispered prayer, a broken sob in four simple letters. Odd how a single word could seem to stretch into infinity. They were packing a lifetime's worth of apologies, of celebrations, of remembrance into a syllable, and it could never be enough.

The devil in chains, whom they had largely ignored, was snarling and snapping as he strained uselessly against the bonds that held him fast. The ancient evil that rolled off of him in waves was enough to turn a stomach. The Doctor had had enough.

With a wordless yell, he pushed his vase to the ground, staring defiantly up at the beast who was now roaring in helpless anger.

And then, Time slowed.

Ida's brown hair, mostly freed from her tight bun, was frozen in the air. Her grimy face was turned away from the beast, brown eyes wide and uncomprehending. The dirty hand that was not pushing the vase to the ground was halfway raised, pointing at a distant spot behind his head. Her soundless mouth was forming a word, a word that he had only just finished thinking.

And a warmer light was filling the pit, destroying the malicious fire that emanated from the beast.

He turned, quickly as possible, following the path from Ida's finger to the source of the light. He wasn't sure if he should weep with regret or cry for joy. He couldn't be sure of the origins of the moisture stinging the cuts across his face, and he wasn't overly keen on investigating.

Amid a tangled inferno of Time, Rose Tyler stood. Her presence deified all explanation, and her eyes burned golden like the dead star above them.

-break-

Rose Tyler was burning, and it was glorious.

She could see for miles - no, centuries - in every direction. Every possible convergence, every minuscule action, every butterfly that dared to flap it's wings could not escape her notice.

And she held the power to change it.

She remembered when she had been weak, fighting the inevitable, holding a few precious threads of Time in her hands and believing that she knew, that she saw. How wrong she had been!

All the pieces had fallen into place, all of the displaced memories that had threatened her sanity were finally situated where they ought to have been. It had all been so easy once her grip had slipped. That's when she realised that she was never meant to have held on. That she was supposed to have failed.

Rose Tyler knew, and Rose Tyler saw what the Doctor had done in the name of desperation and of love, how he had tangled their realities and thrown them into chaos, all for the small chance of her salvation. His beautiful, ravaged face stared up at her, one eye swollen shut, leather jacket missing, blood caking the side of his cheek and temple.

Rose would have whomever had done this to her Doctor.

She watched him as he turned to fully face her, mouth forming a perfect O before splitting into a wide grin and finally settling into an expression of shocked disbelief.

Rose could understand those emotions.

She lifted one hand towards the Devil in chains, palm glowing eerily golden much like the rest of her body. The riotous mass of Time around her swelled and concentrated and expanded, flaring to existence in between the lifelines of her palm.

The beast roared, and she understood.

"You will not win." Her voice was gritty, modulated, powerful. It brimmed with ancient life that shamed even the devil before her, and he knew it.

It bellowed, gnashing its rocky teeth and clutching at the air with branding-iron claws.

"Rose!" The Doctor's voice now, terrified but strong. "Rose, you can't do this." He had moved closer to her, stumbling to his knees in the process. A supplicant before a most worthy god.

She turned to him, outstretched hand never wavering. "I want you safe... my Doctor. I only do what I must, what I have done before."

He blinked, confused, never leaving his knees before her. "I don't understand." His voice was quiet, timorous. Like a small child when first confronted with death and the unknown. She realised then that this was the voice of his true terror. Not the blustering, short snapping of impatience or the angry bark of command. But this still, quiet voice of a child asking why.

It sorrowed her, and she lowered her hand. The beast chuckled, damn him, but it would never win against her. Not the ancient force that carried her. In the end, all things made their obsequience before her. It was only a matter of time.

And it's time could wait.

"My Doctor." She said, warmth stealing through her deadened limbs at the sound of those two words. "You will know." And she lifted her palm towards him, watching carefully as the expressions on his beloved face changed again - sadness to anger to disbelief to terror. Her heart broke anew at the fear that radiated from him. Fear of her. She would never hurt him.

"Rose, you have to let go." He begged, comprehension darkening his expression. She tilted her head, considering. He knew the full story now. What his counterpart had done, what she had yet do to in this timeline. What that would mean further down the line. The headaches, the clairvoyance, the inexplicable telepathy that plagued her before now made perfect sense to him. She was a throwback halfbreed of two twisted timelines and the remnant of the the Bad Wolf. She was the goddess of Time. The human body of Rose Tyler had never stood a chance.

And still, he pleaded with her to give in. She wanted to embrace it. She was so tired. But she couldn't. Not yet.

"I want you safe. My beloved Doctor." She smiled, trying to reassure as she repeated her intentions. She turned from him, trying to put him from her mind even as he begged her. She would do what must be done. It was the agreement. And she would not betray this deal.

Her small hand was raised once more towards the Beast in chains, who strained against his bonds and bellowed in impotent fury. He knew what came next.

Fire and ice and rage emanated from her frail human body, the warm golden glow suffusing the deep angry red of the cavern's natural light. The devil staggered back, lowing pitifully. Snapping its head forward, it smiled a horrible smile and made one last desperate attempt at life. It was not one that was unanticipated. Rose's spirt shuddered as her speculations were realised.

-break-

Ida Scott was burning, and it was excruciating.

Every fibre of her body, every sinew, every bit of bone ached and cracked, peeling back from the sulphurous heat like the edges of a page thrown into an inferno.

She could feel it in her teeth, her eyes, the tips of her fingers and the roots of her hair.

Her kneecaps melted into jelly, her ankles snapped like twigs. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her aching head with fingers made of matchsticks.

And she could feel him, there. Laughing.

Telling her to give in.

And Ida Scott snarled back, with embers in her mouth, and set the tattered shreds of her control upon the mind of the beast that had invaded hers.

In her final moments, Ida discovered that she was a last stand kind of girl.

-break-

Ida sank to the ground, clutching her head and screaming. Her back was bowed, neck rigid and arms frozen in incredible pain. Her otherworldly cries tore through the cavern where Time had stopped, never reaching the outside where the world crumbled around them. She would leave no mark at all on this dying planet. And Rose regretted that with all of her being.

The Doctor turned from Rose and ran to the helpless scientist, placing a gentle hand on her back. She threw it off, snarling, and leapt at him, white teeth flashing in a dirty face where the arcane black marks that tattooed her skin were barely visible. He rolled away with a catlike grace, dodging her hands and teeth with experience born of years on the run.

The Doctor forgotten for the moment, Ida turned her red eyes turned towards Rose, and she howled with eternal fury.

"You would dare to silence me? How has Time done any less evil than I? What makes you worthy of life and me so undeserving? You, whose path is strewn with decay and death and endings. It's in your very nature. I accelerate the processes brought into being by you, and I am the beast?" Her white teeth snapped together, biting off the last word bitterly. She was hunched as if in pain, looking almost like a wild animal instead of a human. Nothing in Ida's manner or her speech belied the wonderful human woman whose body was now a grotesque puppet, an empty shell filled with a fear that trickled through the ages.

Rose was furious, the swirls of Time around her flashing white hot in a reflection of her anger. She spoke with righteous indignation, the raw power of her voice contrasting so sharply with the old-Earth accent. "You dare to question me? I keep the universe in check. I am a constant. I know only judgement and balance, and I do not seek to destroy or to bring pain, only to maintain the scales of life. My gaze falls with equal weight upon all. And I do not destroy life so that I may continue to exist!" She angrily pointed to Ida's twisted body. "This the second being who has died today because of your evil, your selfishness!"

Ida spat a gobbet of blood, a red streak of it trailing down her chin as she grinned up at Rose. "And this one's a fighter, too. A good spirit. Like your body. I can smell her, you know. The little yellow human. She's not given up yet."

Rose stiffened angrily. "Rose-Tyler is not a casualty. She was a willing sacrifice." The Doctor was yelling, but she had to ignore him. Could not let him stop her. She had made a promise. His jumble of words were lost as she focused instead on what would happen if she gave in, took the easy way out. The pink-and-yellow part of her cheered, a huge toothy smile illuminating the familiar haggard features. "I am her, as she is mine. And soon, you will be nothing!" Time uncoiled, and shoved hard.

Ida was propelled backwards, her head striking one of the fallen rocks behind her with a final crack. She crumpled, arcane marks leeching from her skin and eyes returning to their natural state of mousy brown. Their light flickered once, and sputtered out. She lay still, and the cavern rocked with the beast's roar.

"Did you think that I would hesitate? Out of some loyalty to the woman you slaughtered? She would have goaded me on, begged me! She tried to end you herself. She is at peace, and she is grateful." Rose stalked down the hill, her unfamiliar body moving with the grace of a wolf on the hunt. "Return to dust, you hideous creature."

For the first time, the rocky, sulferous being spoke, and the noise was horrific. A dying low of cattle, the sound of steel through flesh, the grinding together of bones comprised the quality of his voice. The Doctor was on his knees, pained as much by the sound as by death of the woman to his right.

"You are no match for me." It seethed, the inky black words dropping from its mouth. "And I will destroy what your little yellow girl loves the most. He will burn with me."

She had no choice. The flutter of panic in her human belly at the implication of what would happen to the Doctor spurred her actions, broke her carefully controlled hold on the entity that flowed through her. Rose Tyler gave in, and she was consumed. The carefully maintained boundaries that separated the duality that she had been sustaining were obliterated in an eyeblink. The floodgates were open, and all of the raw power that she could muster up was being channeled into the monster who dared to threaten the Doctor.

He knew, she realised all too late. He knew what she had just done. He was still kneeling on the cave floor, a broken man, his face sad and empty. He knew Rose was lost.

And the last bit of Rose Tyler was weeping.

With the littlest bit of power she could spare, she created a small window. An opening. And she held fast to the key. A small hope, but not impossible.

The beast roared and juddered, rocky flesh falling off in great chunks as the pit gave way to the destruction that she had held at bay. The smell of burnt flesh and sulfur rolled through the air in a dark cloud, chocking the Doctor while Rose maintained her gaze and her grasp of the Vortex. And with a final, anticlimactic whimper, he was gone.

Rose dropped her hand, panting, searing pain awakening muscles that she had been ignoring. The human body was consumed, burned from the inside out. It could no longer contain her. She looked at the Doctor, at his broken face, and held out her arms. Please catch me, she thought, unable to speak the words. The Bad Wolf stumbled, but Rose Tyler hit the ground like a puppet with her strings cut.

Which was, more or less, what she was.


	16. Chapter 16

**Second to last chapter! I can't believe this crazy ride is coming to an end. Enjoy!**

He caught her just before her head hit the ground, but he knew it was only a formality.

Rose wasn't really in there any more.

It was just her body.

The knowledge resounded in his empty head, galloped through his empty hearts as he carefully cradled the body of a girl who no longer existed.

He half expected her to turn to ash in his arms.

She was warm - too warm, like a furnace was running in her chest where her heart should be beating. She had always felt warm to him, though. Warm and human and oh so very alive.

Now she was none of those things.

His large hand was smoothing back her hair, his calloused palm cupping her soft cheek where a smile would never again form.

His other hand was digging for the sonic, but he stopped himself before he could grasp it. Why torture himself with the finality of absolute proof?

Right now, he could pretend.

Still in her pyjamas. Rose was just sleeping.

"Come on, you silly little ape." He whispered, not even surprised at the cracks in his voice. "Sleep your whole life away, if I let you. We've still got to find the TARDIS. Don't think the weather's going to hold out for much longer."

No response. No magical awakening, no gentle fluttering of the eyelids and a coy, sleepy smile. His life had never been about storybooks. But he wished it would be, just this once. He'd so like a happy ending.

"I don't know why I can't ever manage to get us anywhere nice." He said, shifting Rose so her head lay against his hearts. He wanted her to hear them, to feel his blood pumping and lungs working overtime in the thick air. Maybe it would remind her own how to work. "I'm sorry, Rose. Tomorrow, we'll go somewhere special. I promise. Calm and quiet. All you have to do is give me a smile. I've never been able to resist those."

Her grin echoed in his memory, the tip of her tongue teasing him with cheeky impertinence. The planet continued it's death throes around them, a person-sized chunk of crust falling inches from their position, creating a fresh cloud of thick grey dust to choke on.

"Rose, please." Begging, now. The panic was setting in. "Please don't let this be the end. Not for us. Stand up, fuss at me, tell me to go look for the TARDIS because I can't make myself move!" He panted, not recognising the heaves of his chest for what they were. He was gripping her small shoulder and pressing her tight to him, trying not to shake her little human body.

"I killed you, Rose, it was me! Wake up and be angry, tell me that you hate me and your want to go home to your mum! You should hate me! I did this to you, and this time I don't even get to fix it! I'm meant to burn, Rose! Not you, never you. It's supposed to be me." Memories of another timeline, another pain, another ancient foe taunted him.

He buried his head into her hair, which no longer smelled like cocoanuts. He pressed a kiss to her scalp as he rocked her lifeless body, begging a god he had never believed in to bring the girl back. A god he had never even considered the existence of until his precious girl had become her.

During a desperate, whispered entreaty, the heat from Rose's body intensified, and when he opened his eyes he was no longer on that impossible planet, watching the world crumble around him.

He was home.

Blood red grass beneath his feet, silver leaves overhead, the spires of the Academy in the background and Rose Tyler in the foreground, still in her pyjamas.

And she was smiling at him, and suddenly inside the circle of his arms. She was warm and soft and smelled of coconuts, exactly how he remembered. How she should be. Her bleach-blonde hair tickled his nose, her little fingers hooked into the belt loops of the black denim he found himself wearing again. Her cheek was pressed against the cold, smooth leather of his jacket and her chest rose and fell with each perfect breath, her pulse babbling like a brook in his ears. This was the cruelest of dreams, but he found himself crushing her to his chest all the same. He contented himself with breathing in her scent and feeling the soft puff of her breath against the pulse point of his throat, knowing in the depths if his heart, the pit of his stomach, that she was a lie.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Doctor gently disentangled himself from Rose's embrace, and held her at arms length. Her brandy-coloured eyes twinkled with a pleasant mixture of confusion and happiness, and she was struggling not to smile. He wished he could give into this illusion, to hold Rose close to him and hear her beating heart, to never let her away from him again. For all his optimism, he was at his core a realist. And he could never be happy holding onto a shade.

"None of this is here, is it Rose?" He asked as gently as possible, running one calloused thumb over the thin fabric of the grey teeshirt that covered her shoulder. Her smile faltered for an instant, before returning twice as strong as before.

"I had hoped you'd let yourself believe for just a bit longer than that." She said, and it was his Rose's voice. "No, it's not. But it's really me, and it's really you. Well, as really us as it can be. Well - you get the picture, right?" She sat down in the blood red grass, dragging him down beside her. He was reminded of another dreamscape, another time, when all their futures had swirled before them and he had dared to hope that his hail-Mary would prove successful.

Verdict was still out on that count, then.

Rose leaned against him, winding her arm through his and worming her way as efficiently as she could into his embrace. Despite himself, he gave in, curling against her warmth like a cat with a radiator. They stared at the spires of the Academy for a few breaths, a few heartsbeats, and he felt like he was wasting time.

"What's going on, Rose?" He asked, trying to keep the edge from his voice. She uncurled herself, turning to smile up at him.

"Right now? Nothing. Outside our little bubble, the planet is crumbling, but the rocket's had enough time to escape so at least Jefferson and Danny and Zachary have all gotten out safely. Ida.. Ida doesn't need saying. You and I, well..." She paused, pained by her next sentence. "We'll, we're about to be a bit dead. But it's alright, really!" She backed away, holding her hands up as a gesture of supplication. "Hear me out. It's the only way to fix the timeline. Gotta cut out the cancer if you wanna cure the patient, yeah? We're a... we're a bit cancerous right now. I wanted to make this as painless as possible for you. I thought taking you home might help." She looked worried, as if she had offended the Time Lord by supposing.

"Rose, you have no idea what Gallifrey looks like." The Doctor shook his head, breaking her gaze to watch the shifting silver leaves above them. "And there would be no way for you to know. But this is it, exactly. Down to the smell of the air and the texture of the soil. You need to start explaining exactly everything, and I mean everything, that transpired here."

Rose laughed, and shook her head. "Of course I don't know. But she does, because the TARDIS knew." She chewed her lip and wound a strand of hair around her finger. "'S not me doing any of this, not really. It was her - the Bad Wolf. But I guess she's a bit me, too. And I'm a bit her. I'm not very clear on it. In our proper timeline, I peeked into the heart of the TARDIS - you know the story. You were there. I had the whole Vortex runnin' through my head and even though you took it out, she stayed. Bad Wolf, I mean. And when you played merry hob with our timelines after we got stuck in the Void, well... She came back. But then again she never really left. Like I said - not exactly understanding it meself here. I got scared - I had a lot I didn't understand runnin' through my head - and in my panic I used a bit of me that's more her to hold together reality because I could _feel_ it, Doctor, I could _feel_ the threads unraveling and it was terrifying." He inclined his head, knowing all too well the feeling she described, if not the intensity of it.

"I felt like if I didn't do something, _anything_, we'd all just blink out of existence. If my grip slipped for an instant, I would obliterate every single person, being, creature, _atom_ that ever existed with the strength of the paradox we had created." She paused, swallowing thickly as if choking on the gritty air of the cavern where their bodies had been left behind. He waited patiently for her to continue, grounding himself in the reality of his fingers bruising the fuzzy material that comprised the hem of her lounge pants. Couldn't she have conjured up something else for herself to wear, if she had managed to return him to his self-imposed armor? He tried to ignore the weary pain in Rose's eyes, which were curiously too old for her young face.

At length, she spoke again. "And then I did slip. Even with your healing coma - which was a brilliant idea by the by - it was only a matter of time. I am a bit human yet, not meant to be a stitch in the fabric of reality. But it was alright. She was there to catch me. She speaks like the TARDIS, you know. Its hard enough to remember where she starts and I end without her sounding so much like the old girl. I remember Bad Wolf laughing, and then we were a duality, truly together again and all I remember is fire, and being terrified that my body would tire before what needed to be done was done. Before I cleaned up the mess we'd made. That's what it boils down to, I suppose. The Bad Wolf - she's the embodiment of deal I made with Time. The TARDIS and I did." She paused, as if to compose herself before continuing. "To save you. And I was trying so hard to hold up my end of the bargain so She would hold up Hers."

He reached for her then, needing to bury her inside his chest and never let her escape. Like a talisman, a lucky charm. His brilliant, fantastic, perfect Rose. She pulled away, burrowing into herself as if for protection.

"Dont touch me, I couldn't stand it." She croaked, and he lurched back as if struck. "Don't give me your pity. You must think I'm a monster. You know what I've done, the choices I've made. I played god and I had no right to. I tried to spare Ida, you know. I truly did." A tear, silver-grey in the odd diffuse light filtering down from the between the leaves, slid down her cheek.

"She wouldn't let me. Ida and Bad Wolf both said no. I'd mucked things up enough when I made Jack. I had to let her go." Rose wrung her hands, trying to wash off layers of dried blood that were only visible to her. "And I willed Toby out of existence. I didn't even give him a passing thought. He was just gone, because all I wanted was to get to you." She wiped her face with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of grimy mascara in its wake.

The Doctor stared at her, flabbergasted that those words had ever made their insidious way out of her mouth, never mind into her head. "You don't think I've made horrible, terrible choices, Rose? I obliterated my entire race. Every person I'd ever known. My parents, siblings, cousins, friends, passing acquaintances. My children. I murdered them, and I believed I was doing the right thing." He entreated, desperate to catch Rose before she unravelled in front of his eyes. He recognized the signs. He had done it himself, and he was still finding fragments that had yet to be sutured back together. "The greater good, Rose. That's what I had to tell myself. If I didn't do this terrible thing, many more worse things would happen. My only consolation was that I wouldn't live to see the aftermath of my actions. I hoped I would die along with them, but it wasn't to be. I awoke in this new body with a deafening silence in my head, where my entire world had resided. I became a miserable, despondent shell. I was angry and lonely and vengeful. That silence was so loud it drowned out my sense of self. I spent thirty four years floating aimlessly in the Vortex unable to set any kind of path, even a random one. When I finally mustered up enough gumption, I was lost and drifting through time and space, not even caring where I ended up. And one day, completely by accident, I ran into the Nestene. Got a signal of theirs from a nearby planet. I'd thought they'd been a casualty of the war, as well. Turns out they were more than a bit violent towards a particular planet I had a fondness for in the past. And because of them I met this human, in a dusty basement, who stared at something unbelievable and instead of being terrified, simply asked if it was students. I smiled for the first time in a hundred years. And then I wasn't alone anymore."

Rose's eyes swam with silver tears, and she turned to look at the leaves hiding the sky from their view. "The universe could have burned, but if you were alright, if you were _safe_, I would have let it. Don't make me into a saint, Doctor. Look at me as I really am."

He chuckled, the noise hollow and mirthless, but the sparkling of his eyes was barely diminished. "Rose Tyler. You are a brave, loyal, strong woman who was gifted with an impossible power and somehow still managed to keep the Earth spinning on its axis. And other planets on theirs. No stars went out, no galaxies shifted ever-so-slightly to the left because you looked at them sideways. The universe continues, and you could have stopped it if you had only tried. There was no malice or anger or thoughtlessness in your intention. There are always casualties. Not everyone lives." He was gripping her shoulders now, not even aware that his hands had moved from their nervous worrying of the terry fabric. She stared at him with opaque eyes, ageless and wondering.

"No," Rose said, quietly. "Not this time." Little boys and fireflies were a long way away, but it was hard to see if it was behind or before them.

"That still doesn't explain what we're doing here, exactly." The Doctor gently goaded, steering Rose out of her introspection.

"We aren't anywhere. This is just a construct, a shadow of the TARDIS's memory of Gallifrey. Our consciousnesses - our 'selves', if you like that better, are in the Vortex, in this memory, while our bodies are back on that planet."

"How?" He marveled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind the shell of her ear. "Rose... I watched you, I mean I saw... You should be gone, Rose." He worried the corner of her lip with his thumb, and she darted her head to the side and nipped a quick kiss to the pad. The unexpected action made him jump, and Rose laughed his confused grin.

"Isn't it enough that I'm here now?" She asked, the mirth falling from her eyes as she sobered.

"You know the answer to that." The Doctor said, as gently as possible. "I watched everything that was Rose Tyler be consumed by an entity that until an hour ago I hadn't considered in capacity other than an abstract concept at best."

"Who says I was destroyed? Maybe Im in some so' of intergalactic shoebox and stored on a shelf in some kid's closet somewhere until I'm needed again." Her words were meant to tease, but neither one of them smiled. "Don't you know that old song, Doctor? They played it at Granny Prentice's funeral. Was a poem, first. You must know it, you know everything. 'I am a thousand winds that blow - I am the diamond glint on snow...' Like much of this insane situation, I don't think I fully get it myself. But I am Rose Tyler, and I am right here, right now. Where either one of us will be after this, I can't say. I made a deal with Time, and this is where the path has lead. Lets not waste this in idle speculation, please?" She asked, and he could refuse her nothing.

A flush of unexpected heat covered them like a tidal wave, leaving the pair of them coughing and hacking in the appearance of undisrupted air. The Doctor wheezed, squeezing Rose's hand. "Not much longer, then."

"I should say not." She mumbled, brandy eyes focusing on anything but his face. She returned the pressure on his callused fingers, her hand still too hot in his own. "Doctor, I'm so sorry." Her attention remained locked on the grass around her slippers.

"Don't be sorry, Rose. Never that." He caught her chin, bringing her gaze away from the ground to lock onto his own. He remembered all the times he had wanted to lose himself in the depths of her eyes, and how he had never imagined them to be so aged. "Rose, I've got to tell you something, and this is not the way I thought this would ever happen, but if I don't say it now I'll go to my grave with it on my lips. I won't have that, I won't do that to you." He paused, focusing the intensity of his stare on the spires of the Academy instead of the expectant face of the girl before him. "I let you in, and I don't do that. I would say I let you get too close, but who am I kidding, you became a siren call the second I left you outside of Henrik's. I could never leave you alone again - and now you're forever a part of me. And sometimes that's the absolute worst thing that's ever happened to me. But mostly it's just been the best. The most _fantastic_. Rose, I know why I did such a stupid thing in the future. A foolish, last-ditch, doomed to fail action like that has only one motivation. I know you've heard it before, but you need to hear it from this mouth, and see it in these eyes, because that's where it all started. Rose Tyler -" he started in his deep Northern drawl, and finished with an Esturatry lilt. He stuttered, and could not finish his statement.

He teeth were suddenly no longer the same size.

And his hands - his huge, pawlike, callused hands - were now thin and bony, the backs covered with a light sprinkling of hair. But then they were his own again - and now his body was twisting, contorting, his ribcage shrinking and his hips narrowing. He groaned, biting his tongue with teeth that were sometimes his, and sometimes not. Every muscle, fiber, sinew, bone in his body buckled and tore, flickering between two forms and unable to chose either. He sank to his knees, unable to stand.

Through the fluctuations in his jawline, he could feel Rose's warm hand on his cheek, and through a hazy blur of pain, he could see her warm, sad smile and the tears - of relief, of sympathy? - making their way down her face. "Oh Doctor, it worked. It worked after all."

He whimpered, unable to hold the sound at bay as his shoulder blades realigned themselves for the third time. Rose winced with him, pulling him closer into her arms. She soothed him best as possible, trying to make him comfortable as wave after wave of changes wracked his body. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't know it would be like this, I'm so sorry." It was a quiet, whispered mantra that she repeated, rocking the Timelord as if she were comforting a child, smoothing a hand over close-cropped hair and tangling her fingers in chocolate brown locks when they appeared. Soothing, her busy little hands always soothing. Fingers brushing over cheekbones, over lips, over closed eyelids. She was openly crying, now, he could feel the sobs as they moved through her body and connected with his.

The Doctor reached a hand towards her face, cupping her cheek and trying to pretend that he couldn't feel the change coming again in his bones. He had to say it, even if it was a wheezing gasp instead of the declaration he had intended. Life was what happened when you were busy making other plans. Adaptability. He was proud of his skills at adapting.

"I love you, Rose." He gasped, relived that it was his usual drawl instead if the strange lilting tones he had been speaking in. He stretched his legs out where he lay, holding his back as rigid as possible as his vertebrae realigned themselves. "And I always will."

"Doctor," she whispered, her face inches from his, her fingertips lingering on his lips, silencing any other words he had a mind to say. The apples of her cheeks were pink and streaked with tears, black paths of mascara winding their way down the planes of her face. Her lips were full and pale and bitten, devoid of their usual pink tint. She had worried a corner bright red with an eyetooth. Her tangled hair brushed his cheek, the flyways illuminated in the setting sun's light. She was beautiful. She was a goddess. There was his proof - her halo of golden hair, burning red in the evening sun.

"Doctor, I love you, always and eternally. I am what I am, I have done what I have done because of my love for you. Nothing can ever change that. No matter how you look, or if you speak like you're from the North or if your eyes are blue like ice or dark like the night. You are the same man, _always_, and you are _mine_." Her fingers were replaced by soft, full lips crashing down on his, and he tasted her with two mouths as her wandering hands found the shell of his ear, the line of his collarbone, the collar of his jacket as he melted into her kiss. Two sets of hands tangled in her blonde hair as he desperately clung to the one thing that was real, that one immutable fact that his world revolved around for the short moments that comprised his eternity. He loved Rose, and she loved him.

The world crumbled around their heads, and the colours of Gallifrey ran back into the kaleidoscope of memory. The Doctor lost himself in the taste of honey and ash in Rose's mouth as the outlines of their bodies blurred, and they melted into shadows on the sun.


	17. Chapter 17

**Wow, this really got huge. I had to split the "final" chapter in two. Don't worry, I am double-posting tonight. I won't prolong the wait any longer! As always, enjoy & review!**

Smooth planes, the bright blur of a distorted reflection, and a slightly tangy antiseptic smell. Rose was becoming a connoisseur of floors. She could practically wax poetic about them.

She wasn't entirely sure she liked that fact. Yes, she could now tell the subtle difference between steel and more it's more advanced composite forms. But when was that going to come in handy? Generally, when she was communing with the floor, she already knew where she was - she had become vastly over-acquainted with the different types of prisons to be found in this universe. Chances were, if she ended up on the floor, it was going to be in a cell.

And this definitely smelled of the 21st century. A bit like the industrial strength cleaner they used to use in her old school building, actually. Not that she had any reason to remember why that smelled that way, Rose winced. Not their usual choice for sure. Generally they were either far behind or way ahead. It wasn't often that they returned to her old time unless they were visiting Mum...

Rose scrambled to her feet, limbs brimming with unused energy. It had worked! She let out a sharp bark of laugher, spinning in a circle with her hands on her head. Pink pyjamas and all! She was in one piece. She was alright - better than alright. She felt like Rose Tyler, times ten.

Mid-spin, she caught sight of her reflection in the gold plate of the lever to her left - the lever that still bore the smudges of her palm prints, the only physical evidence of their struggle. The blurred image that was presented to her wiped the relieved smile from her face.

She almost looked like Rose Tyler. Her cheekbones were more prominent, her evenly-cut hair that had fallen to mid-back was now a shaggy bob that barely brushed her shoulders. The short, choppy cut allowed the soft wave of her natural hair to show, and her locks were brown, the bottle-blonde having disappeared. But this was not her natural, mousey brown – it was something deeper and older. Like the bottom of a creek when hit by sunlight. She had lost the last vestiges of baby fat that had rounded out her face, aging her and sharpening her eyes. Wizened - that was the word for it.

Rose looked at her hands, and gawked at the full, bright nails that had replaced the ones she had chewed to the quick. Her arms were lean and toned, and upon inspection her legs were in a similar state. She was a Rose Tyler who had done a lot of running, and aged a decade in her sleep. She was the best imitation of herself, as if someone had attempted to rearrange her body in the way they had felt she should look. She was an icon, or a statue - not a person, not really. Rose Marion Tyler: canonized, sanitized, reborn.

The impact of her mum's words, some of the last they'd ever exchange, finally sunk in. She was walking around a marketplace, a hundred thousand years from now. And she was not Rose any longer. The realization grieved her.

And then she heard it.

The quiet little chuckle that sounded like the ticking hands of a clock.

"It is a gift." Time chided, looking down her nose. "You should be happy." She was an ethereal, breezy shape against the blank white slate of the far wall - the wall that Rose had fallen into, wound around the Doctor and taking her last breath, fully believing she would die. The wall that housed the window to the Void, and now it held the image of a deity that would have been beyond her comprehension a few short years ago.

Rose studied her unfamiliar hands, bringing them up to touch the new hollow of her cheek. "How is this a gift? I'm not me any longer. I'm someone else. Some other girl's body's got my head in." Even her teeth felt different.

"Have you any idea how difficult it is to reconstruct a physical form that has been reduced to mere memory? Even for me. You are dead, Rose-Tyler, and I resurrected you." The self-satisfied triumph in her brassy tone made Rose's hackles rise.

Her stomach plummeted as the full implication of her words sunk in. It didn't work. All her planning, her sacrifice, and she had still mucked it up. The Doctor was dead. Jack's handsome face appeared in her head, and she was appalled. "Why bring me back? What's dead should stay dead. Haven't we proved that yet?" she growled, noticing for the first time the length of her canines. Not fangishly long, per se, but different enough to notice. She worried them with the tip of her tongue angrily.

"The difference, my dear, between yourself and a certain Captain is that I did it properly." Time bristled, and in Rose's head the spring of a watch wound itself. "You wanted your beloved Captain alive and unharmed forever. You never wanted to watch him suffer again. And you accomplished that rather grandly - partially, at least. I merely wanted you alive. Which, as I've stated, is a good sight harder when you've given away every iota of your existence except for one fact." Time sniffed arrogantly, removing imaginary lint from her translucent sleeve.

Rose stiffened. "I've got this power and no understanding of how it works. Forgive me if I make a few mistakes, your worshipfulness." Ooh, sassy. Was that really her talking? Was that the kind of person she was, now? She was a maelstrom of emotions, and few of them were of any positive inclination.

Time shook her head, but not in anger - sadness. Somehow, the display of emotion coming from her made Rose even angrier. "My girl, you were given nothing. You took, and I allowed you to keep what you've stolen because you are useful, and will continue to be useful. Your motives are pure and your intentions good. You travel with the last of my true children. You love her as she loves you. And you adore her keeper, as he adores you. And I have given you the chance to continue in this life. But I do not give things without asking something in return."

"What could you possibly want with me?" Rose dropped her gaze, unable to look at the blinding white wall any longer. Her slippers were in dire need of a wash. And she would probably be burning these pyjamas. She didn't think she could bear to look at them again.

"Except for one single creature left in this universe, no one sees me naturally. Everyone can see you, Rose-Tyler. And that is useful."

"So what am I then, a mouthpiece? A chained dog? I would rather die than be a puppet for some being that I made the mistake of begging a favor from, once, to save the life of a good man! A plea that, if I remember correctly, was echoed and supported by your last child and was one you granted willingly. No one twisted your arm. I stole nothing. I asked boldly out of love and desperation. Our deal is over, an' has been. You should have left me dead."

"Our deal ends when I say it does, human child." Time snapped, straightening to her full height and blasting Rose with the intensity of her glare. "And I said your life was a gift. I did not say it was a gift for you." She tilted her head, gesturing to the crumpled body of a man in an orange jumpsuit. He seemed to flicker in out of the ether - Rose had been sure there was nothing against that wall moments ago. She couldn't see his face - he was only recognizable by the curve of his back as he slumped beside the far wall in a posture of defeat. But oh, she knew that curve.

Rose's blood cooled in her veins, turning her stomach to ice. Her vision narrowed till all she could see was the pitiful, unmoving splash of orange against a jarring wash of white. As she turned to run towards the wall, Rose found herself glued to the spot, muscles and limbs unresponsive as she strained towards her goal. "What's happened to him." She begged, torn between boiling over with anger and freezing in fear.

She settled on anger, bristling like a wild dog and turning the full force of her considerable energy towards the responsible party. "What did you do to him! Let me go. _Let me go_to him." She twisted and pulled, straining and stretching and still moving no closer. Her shoulder protested, feeling as if it would be torn from its socket if she struggled any more.

"Your insolence is not appreciated, child. You are both needed. I see all things, Rose-Tyler. And I see what he became without you. The hardness in him, the malice. And I can't have that."

"Just cogs in the mechanism of some great machination, are we?" Rose bit off, still struggling to reach the prone form of the Doctor. Was he breathing? He was so still. She just needed to see his face, why couldn't she let her go? Rose's shoulder screamed, tendon separating from bone bit by bit. She stared at Time in defiance, daring her to contradict the bold statement.

The ticking of clocks, again. "Aren't we all." The translucent, barely visible form of Time melted away entirely, leaving Rose shaking - with cold or anger, it was impossible to tell.

Rose was suddenly unbalanced - she could feel the absence of the presence of Time keenly. It left her reeling. He stumbled about like a drunken sailor, trying to walk a straight line in the tilt-a-whirl the room had suddenly become. She shook her head, sending her newly shorn brown locks flying. She could feel pieces shifting, changing, twisting, struggling to attain equilibrium as the entity that had controlled her human body through hell and back stepped aside and returned to hibernation in the depths of her mind. Through the fog of confusion, Rose dragged herself towards the Doctor, the only real thing she could focus on. A touchstone. The only thing she could understand was the base need to curl up beside the orange jumpsuit.

After only a few stumbling steps towards her destination, she collapsed on her knees as the nausea became too much for her. Her shoulder screamed in agony, the only part of her body that was hot. She was cold, so cold - like ice. She flexed her fingers, almost expecting them to snap off like icicles as she made a fist. The room wheeled and spun, colors bleeding into each other till the whole world was brown, brown like her hair and the dirt and tea in the morning and the eyes of the woman she killed.

The watch wound down, and the ticking stopped.

Rose hiccoughed delicately, the thinnest, most delicate sprinkle of huon energy floating in the air in front of her as she did so. She followed it around the room with her eyes till it dissipated into thin air. Then, there was a plan. Everything was so clear, so sharp. It was beautiful.

With eerie calm, Rose dragged herself to her knees, and reached blindly along the edge of the table for her mobile. She couldn't quite sort out why it wasn't in her pocket, or more importantly why she was not wearing her jeans, but she knew it would be there. Without looking, she dialed a string of numbers she had no memory of as she crawled across the floor on all fours towards the orange heap in the corner. Why was he wearing orange? His suit was brown. Orange didn't favor his coloring. Made him look sallow. Or was he sallow because he was ill? Was that why he couldn't hear her calling?

Rose shook away her confusion, clinging desperately to the few tatters of memory that remained. They had undergone an ordeal. She was not as she once was. She had killed the Doctor - no! She had saved him. He was here.

She reached his side just as her shaking fingers punched the last digit - a seven. She held her superphone to her ear as she ran her trembling hand over the Doctor's brown hair, willing him to wake. He wasn't breathing, but that might not be a problem. Respiratory bypass. How to restart that? Prenatural knowledge clicked into place in her mind, and Rose understood. Oh yes.

Rose listened carefully to the second click as she pressed on thumb on hollow between the Time Lord's dual breast bones, smiling as she felt the tickle of his hearts. He would be fine. She had done it. Her fingers were not her own, her hands moving according to the pull of some master puppeteer's strings, but she was content to let them work. The plan dictated it. The crystal clear plan that had sprang, fully formed, into her head.

A gentle push and twist as the third click rang succeeded in drawing a wheeze from the man before her, and she was grinning widely as a familiar voice came on the line.

"This better be damn important." The loping American drawl was like music, his irritation painting a picture of his face that Rose couldn't help but giggle at. "I'm in the middle of a situation here."

"Why Jack, I'm wounded." Rose purred in a voice that was a strange echo of her own. Inside, she frowned. Surely she didn't sound like that? "Don't you recognize me?" Why didn't she recognize herself?

Jack's response was a hushed whisper, the reverence in his tone was of a caliber usually reserved for church services and funerals. "Rosie." He paused, swallowing audibly. "Tell me that's you, Rosie, and this isn't some cruel joke, because I swear to God, If you're pranking me now, of all days, no corner of this universe will be able to hide you from me, and I mean that sincerely."

"It's me, Cap'n. You're still the only person what can get away with calling me that." She was kissing the Doctor's forehead, his pale, lightly freckled skin oddly warm against her lips. She was so cold. He stirred, drawing in another series of laborious breaths. She stilled him with a hand on his shoulder, willing him peace. "How close are you to Torchwood London? We're in a bit of a bind." Rose hacked up a wracking cough, another bolus of huon energy floated in the air before her. "The Doctor and I. We could use a third."

A heartbeat, and the door to the lever room burst open. The flapping coattails told Rose exactly how close Jack was to Torchwood London. She dropped the phone from suddenly numb fingers, watching with detachment as it skittered across the floor in two pieces. She managed a weak smile in Jack's direction before a coughing fit took her breath away.

"Rose!" Jack was bellowing, but it sounded like he was a thousand miles away. She could feel his heavy hand on her shoulder, though, and she collapsed with relief into his embrace. Her brother, that she had never had. That she had created for herself. He was squeezing her too tightly, crushing the air from her lungs, but she couldn't find it in herself to reproach him. "You were on the list, Rosie." He said, voice suspiciously thick. "You were dead. It's been a day and they've _counted_ and they said you were dead and its been so long since the Daleks, what happened on the game station, _why would you leave me_ _Rosie_ it's been _ages_-"

"I'll explain. I _swear _I will." The words came from her mouth, but not her mind. She had never been so tired in her life, she was certain of it. Her beautiful plan, so sharp and detailed, was fading away. But it didn't matter. Jack was here. He would know what to do. He would save them. Belatedly, she realized he was staring at her hair. Not that she could blame him - she would stare at it, too. "Help me get him to the TARDIS. I don't know what to do. She'll know. She will. She has to." Cold shivers wracked her body, and the urge to be ill was almost overpowering.

Jack had his arms under the Doctor's shoulders in an instant, motioning for Rose to grab his feet. "The TARDIS is in the storage room. I just saw her. Trick is to make sure no one sees us. This place is crawling with police and Torchwood. I should know - I'm one of them." He stared at Rose as if truly seeing her for the first time, his concern for her obvious. She had no time to explain, or reassure him. The unquestionable urgency of their situation weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach.

"Right where I left her, then." Rose mumbled, standing on weak legs with the Doctor's booted feet in a tenuous grasp. They made their slow, shuffling way toward the exit, Jack shouldering the glass door open and Rose catching it with her hip on the way out. They were making more noise than she felt strictly comfortable with. She was too tired to shush Jack, however, and trusted that the former con man would know what he was doing. Sneaking about was not a new trick for him. Wasn't for any of them, really.

They made their awkward, winding way through the hall faster than Rose anticipated, with Jack leaning around corners and scouting a bit before they carried the Doctor ahead. Jack had managed to successfully get them out of the one bind they had landed in, flashing his disarming smile at the lone official they encountered. The slightly bewildered policeman was quickly shunted off in the opposite direction as they half-dragged the unconscious Time Lord towards the TARDIS. Every time Rose felt like she would fall over from exhaustion and she couldn't take another step, she heard her slippers make a soft thwack on the floor. Her feet kept moving without her explicit permission, and it irritated her without reason. Her body was not her own - it wasn't even behaving like she wanted it to. She just wanted this all to be over with.

Rose almost cried with relief when that box, the bluest blue box she had ever seen, appeared around the corner. She stretched out with her mind, eager to reestablish contact with the timeship. Instead of the burst of warm golden energy she had grown accustomed to receiving from the TARDIS, the response blossomed into full-grown communication. She could feel the TARDIS's joy at their presence and her anxiety over the Doctor's condition as they approached. It was overpowering and comforting in equal parts.

Rose unlocked the door with trembling fingers, sagging against the blue wood as her legs finally gave out. Warmth and affection and belonging and _oh_! She was _home_.

Rose half-collapsed inside the doorway, prompting Jack to swing the Doctor into a fireman's carry and stagger to the medbay without her assistance. He would make it. He had been there enough times on his own. They all had. Rose leaned against the rough coral walls, reveling in the physical and mental support the TARDIS was cocooning her with. She marveled at their new level of communication, reassuring the worried TARDIS as she closed her eyes in exhaustion. Just a kip, and she'd be fine. The timeship's soft, nonsense murmurings began to gently organize the jumble of information in her head. Slowly, brick by brick, the TARDIS rebuilt the walls in Rose's mind as she lay bonelessly against the coral, watching the facts and memories arrange themselves in shadows behind her eyes without taking a direct interest in their relocation.

Rose luxuriated in the peace and security that the ancient being offered her. Having the old girl speaking inside her head was like curling inside dryer-warmed blankets on a frigid night. It felt warm and safe and whole. This transition, this change in Rose had been the final catalyst in their unique synergy. They were not quite a Time Lord and timeship, but not quite a part of one another. They had become symbiotic in the best way, intertwined forever as a result of that wonderful, terrible deal that had altered the course of all of their lives in ways Rose never would have imagined. Ways they had yet to discover.

The TARDIS sang to her, a comforting melody in language she could still not understand. But often it wasn't about the words - it was the context. In her own way, she was explaining exactly what was happening both to the Doctor and Rose's odd, new body. Rose felt the last claws of tension loosening as she realized that everything really had gone to plan. Just Plan F instead of Plan A. They would be fine. All of them. Her face relaxed into a smile, and the TARDIS sang even louder - sang of the Doctor, and the times they had. Would continue to have. Of the pieces of Rose that had been given away, and the pieces gained. The healed cracks in time, and the healing cracks in their souls. Rose let her mind wander, and laid in repose against the walls for an eternity that encompassed five minutes. She exhaled, feeling all of the anger and terror she had been carrying around inside of her leech out of her body. A trickle of huon energy flitted about the control room, unseen by its former landlord as it was reabsorbed into the heart of the TARDIS.

Rose finally felt strong enough to prize her eyelids open as Jack stumbled back into the control room. He was scowling, and she could just tell he was fixing to give her hell until she got herself into the medbay as well. She'd prove him wrong, then.

Grinning wolfishly, Rose hauled herself to her feet and launched herself into Jack's embrace. He snapped his arms up just in time to catch her, as she had known he would. He was already well into a recriminating lecture, his voice full of worried reproach, but the words blurred into one another and she ignored his diatribe. Instead, she reveled in the wool-and-smoke smell of him as he held her tight, and let her mind drift to the first time he had caught her - not with his arms, but with a glorified tractor beam. Very Spock. She had approved immediately.

"I need tea." Her voice was muffled by the woolen officer's coat, but she knew her point had been made.

"Hwhat?" Jack broke off mid rant to stare down at Rose. His bangs flopped down into his eyes, and he flicked them back with annoyance. "Were you even listening to me?"

Rose continued to ignore him, realizing that this must be what the Doctor felt like when her eyes glazed over during an overly complex explanation and he steamrolled ahead, heedless of her inattention. "Tea's exactly what I need. Super-heated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Worked for his nibs back there last Christmas, should do wonders for me. Come on then Jack, let's have a cuppa. I've got a few tales to tell you." Her eyes were twinkling, primarily at the confusion in Jack's expression. "I said I'd explain, didn't I? I'm fine, really. Or I will be. And so will he. Told you she'd know what to do."

Jack raised an eyebrow, obviously still skeptical over Rose's sudden recovery. "She had the whole place set up before I even brought him in. Wouldn't let me touch anything. It was the damnedest thing - I can't actually hear her, you know, just get vague impressions - but I knew she wanted me gone. I barely even laid him on the bed before she booted me out!" The lights in the control room dimmed in response, and Rose laughed.

"She says she knows what she's doing, thank you very much, and has been caring for this particular wayward Time Lord for long enough to recognize what he's gone and done to himself. This is just a particularly nasty bout of regeneration sickness. She says not to worry, and to have some tea, dammit. Her words, not mine." Rose leaned back, smirking as Jack's jaw popped open and hung in a very undignified manner. She closed it with her index finger, enjoying the look he was giving her as she did so. Complete befuddlement. "It's a long story. We'd better get started." Rose bounced off in the direction of the kitchen, with Jack trailing behind her.


	18. Chapter 18

**I can't believe this is really it! Please let me know what you think!**

The kitchen was just as she had left it. Her favorite mug was still sitting in its place of honor on the counter, freshly washed. The Doctor's breakfast plate was still in the sink, unwashed but no worse for wear. The room still smelled vaguely of bananas and Earl Grey, and it was enough to spring tears to her eyes. Something so normal, so commonplace, that she had taken it for granted. Would it ever feel this way again?

Ignoring the gathering moisture, Rose removed the kettle and two mugs – not her favorite; she just couldn't bear to move it - from the cupboard, and set about the business of making some tea, all the while carefully keeping Jack behind her. Let him worry over her watery eyes later. She had her ritual to attend to. Measure the water, pour, and wait. Measure the tea leaves, pour, and wait. Find the sugar. Find the milk – damn, they never had gotten more. Ignore the lack of milk and overcompensate with sugar cubes. She presented Jack with a steaming hot cuppa eight minutes and thirty four seconds later, damn her newly-overdeveloped sense of time. Would she never wonder again how long it took to get somewhere?

Jack accepted the cup with his usual quirky grin, pulling out a chair for her gallantly before seating himself. A throwback to the years he spent in the past, she supposed, before she remembered that she wasn't meant to know that Jack had wiled away centuries on Earth, all because they had left him behind. She would have to let him tell her in his own time before she made the effusive and long-overdue apologies she was dying to give him. They had not been fair, and Jack had suffered for it.

"You'd better start from the beginning." Jack goaded as she sat lost in her thoughts. Rose took a sip of her tea, singeing her tongue only a little bit. Warmth spread through her, trickling down into her chest and setting to work on chasing away the last of the cold she had trapped there. Tea really was a brilliant beverage. She exhaled softly, a tiny trickle of golden glow dusting the air as she did so.

Jack dropped his mug, catching it just in time to avoid spilling the steaming hot tea anywhere other than his hand. He sucked on a burned finger and stared at Rose as if she had just turned purple and announced her marriage to King George. He may actually have been less shocked if she had done so.

"Start talking, Rosie." He said around a mouthful of finger. "'Cause I'm only getting more confused over here. I've seen that light before. I coughed up a nice big gob of it when I came back from the dead." Rose started, shocked that Jack would spill what she would have considered his darkest secret so casually.

"Don't act all surprised, Rose. It's not like the Doc didn't know. He can sense time, and I am a big giant canker sore in the middle of its pretty face. I've been alive for centuries. Not just _alive_ – unable to die. I'm a zombie. The handsome, non-decaying kind, but a zombie. The walking dead. An abomination." Jack crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, suddenly openly hostile. "You spent all this time away, and he didn't even tell you? Impossible. He _knew_." The anger in Jack's murky blue eyes sizzled, the centuries-long pain of abandonment finally coming to a head.

Rose leaned across the table, loosening Jack's hand and gripping it firmly in hers. She rubbed the weathered skin of the back of his hand with her thumb, and tried not to think of how many times in the intervening centuries that he had died of unnatural means and been revived. That he had uprooted his life, moved elsewhere, because his features never wizened and his hair never greyed. How many friends he had watched wither and die.

"You're not a zombie. You're a fixed point in time. There's a big difference. And for me, Jack… it's only been a year. A year I spent believin' you were dead. I had... There's weren't... I wasn't... I didn't even find out you were alive till recently. And I was in no state to do anything abou' it." She fumbled for the right words, worrying her lip with a sharp canine. Jack continued to brood across the table from her, but he did not withdraw his hand. He was ready to hear.

Rose opened her mouth, and started at the beginning. She blinked in surprise at the words that came pouring out – they had not been the ones she had intended to say. But they were good words – they were the truth, and not a sanitized version of it. She wove the story as expertly as she could; encompassing both timelines, explaining what she could and couldn't remember of her incarnations as Bad Wolf, and her actions as that goddess incarnate. How she had tried to save Jack, and in her infinite power she had made it so he would never need saving again. He was stonily silent; his face pale as he realized that it was her, his Rosie that had cursed him this way. Anger and sadness fought battles on his face.

"But Jack, you see, I'm a bit like 'im now. A bit of a side-effect, you could say. And I don't know if it's because we're still different, but you aren't a sore spot for me. I see you, but then I _see_you. You have this absolutely brilliant darkness, a true black light. You are unique. And you're like a beacon. I could find you anywhere. You're a North Star." She was gripping his hand tightly, willing him to see that he wasn't an abomination but a gift.

His face was stone, and her words neither comforted nor appeased him. But he returned the pressure on her hands, and nodded solemnly.

Rose stood; taking his mug to the counter and on some unspoken agreement began fixing another cup. Their conversation was far from over, but that chapter was closed for now. Jack would think on things, and see her when he was ready. She could feel it.

She carried the mugs back to the table, and resumed her lengthy depiction of her current situation. Her hands gestured wildly as she recounted their race away from the Cybermen and Daleks in the Void, and she skirted the immediate results of the Doctor's ill-advised tampering with the timelines with a flush of giddy embarrassment. That memory was hers alone. The great weight of guilt abated minutely as she recounted the deaths of Toby and Ida, accepting Jack's solemn expression with grace. She finally gave in and cried while remembering the pain that she had caused the Doctor as she had attempted to give them a way to cheat death. The rictus of agony that his face had been locked in as every cell in his body rebelled simultaneously would haunt her for the rest of her days. In turn she dutifully ignored the sympathetic moisture in Jack's eyes as she wound up the tale with discovering the Doctor in a heap in the floor, and calling the only person she could think of. The only family left in this universe. Her guide star.

She had told him everything - well, almost everything. She was still carefully dancing around her conversation with the erstwhile deity before she had dialed the numbers that she should never have known. The numbers that had brought Jack barreling through the glass doors like an avenging angel. These were things she had yet to digest, and things she didn't feel that Jack needed to know in this instant.

The hours had wound down without their reckoning, and the tea mugs had been refreshed three more times. Jack was currently at the stove making it a fourth. He chuckled, bringing a smile to Rose's face even if her heart heavy with the weight of reflection. It felt good to hear him laugh. "So," he began, the rakish grin she had always been so fond of crinkling the corner of his left eye. "I bet you were a sight, standing there on that hill brimming with authority and righteous anger. If I had been the Doc I'm not sure if I'd fallen madly in love or been terrified. Never woulda figured you for a goddess, Rosie."

He winked, and Rose gave into the very strong impulse to throw her napkin at his head. "Oi, you great prat! What are you trying to say?" She laughed, wadding up the paper and chucking it in Jack's direction.

"It was a toss up, alright." The extra voice startled Rose, throwing her aim wrong. The small paper square ended up sadly in the sink instead of stuck on Jack's oversized collar. The Doctor was leaning against the doorframe, pale and shaken but seemingly normal.

But Rose could tell otherwise. His Estuary accent that had caused him to fairly trill her name was now brought down a notch by a hidden Northern growl. He was still thin as a rail, his brown suit barely managing to look respectable, but there was anger in his stance that hasn't been there before. He was brooding, something this incarnation of the man she loved did not do with as much frequency as his predecessor.

But the biggest giveaway was his eyes. His wonderful, ice blue eyes, set off in his pale face by the shock of dark chocolate hair and the impish nose. It was the Doctor, certainly. But he was different, too. Changed. He was a hybridization of the two facets she had known and loved. What did that mean?

The three friends stood in silence, the only sound the bubble of water about to boil in the kettle. Jack broke the awkward silence first, clearing his throat and extending his hand. "S' damn good to see you again, Doc." He straightened, wearing the troubled expression of a man confronting his fears and expecting to be burned. His brown hair flopped into his eyes, making him look vulnerable and small. Exactly how Rose felt. He carefully avoided the Doctor's blue-eyed gaze. Rose wondered if he knew what the presence of those crystalline eyes meant – or if he even saw them.

A heartbeat, and the Doctor grinned toothily, a real smile, and gripped Jack's hand vigorously. "Jack Harkness. I have so much to make up for. It's been far too long, and you can't know how sorry I am."

Jack grinned slowly, and continued his grip on the Doctor's hand as some of his cocky confidence returned. "Now those are some words I never thought I'd hear cast in my direction. I spent my entire stay in this ship wondering if I was about to be booted out of the airlock! Some things do change." Jack winked at Rose, and released the Doctor, who exhaled carefully. Jack was still an anathema to him, but he was doing his level best not to let on. But Rose knew. Rose could _see_.

"Is there enough water on for a third?" The Doctor asked, resuming his self-assigned task of holding up the doorframe.

Jack nodded his assent, and turned back to the stove. The kettle had begun to whistle merrily, the noise a strange contrast to the awkward silence that now hung in the room. The Doctor continued to lean against the doorjam, avoiding Rose's expectant gaze expertly. But there was something in his stance, the downcast tilt of his head. His avoidance wasn't born from anger - but fear. But fear of her? She couldn't say.

Rose half stood from her chair, torn between running into his arms and keeping a respectful distance. She longed to feel his arms around her, to hold his hand with hers and feel the familiar weigh of it. To breathe in the scent of bergamot, machine oil, bananas and that strange tangy metallic scent that she now knew as time. And to laugh with him again! But she had no idea where they would stand after this particular debacle. Something told her could not be the one to define the relationship. Rose turned her sprint into an awkward half stumble to the kitchen counter, where her suddenly clumsy gait successfully knocked her favorite mug to the ground. The cheerful yellow mug shattered into a thousand pieces, and Rose snorted in dismay as she watched a large shard bounce onto the toe of her slipper.

"Oh Rose, your mug!" Before she could respond, the Doctor was kneeling before her and gathering the jagged shards of porcelain gently in his hands. "Don't worry, I'll get it sorted. There's this great place on a little planet orbiting Adhara - that's a star in your Canis Major constellation - a great shop, best for fixing little broken odds and ends. Can't even see the cracks anymore. He's sorted out a few bits of the TARDIS that I hadn't been able to replace and that's _damn_tricky work - especially the modifier coils, got to have just the right weight to them - he'd fix your mug in no time." He held the pieces of her mug carefully as he searched for all the broken bits, babbling on and on as he did so. Rose kneeled to assist him but was shooed away as he muttered some nonsense about her cutting her hands. Jack's eyebrows had climbed into his hairline, and he was trying to stifle a laugh - both at the Doctor's prattling and Rose's increasing indecision. Jack knew well enough why she was suddenly wrong-footed, Rose surmised. She was an open book in a language the Doctor was pretending he couldn't read.

"Just don't be alarmed when we meet him," Unperturbed by Rose's bafflement and Jack's amusement, the Doctor continued his steady stream of information. He stood, satisfied that he had collected all of the fragments of Rose's mug and placed them in a kitchen rag. "He's about three meters tall with hands as big as a small dog, but I swear he does the most delicate work..."

Rose couldn't take it any longer. As soon as the Doctor had placed the bundle on the counter, she grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and took advantage of his surprised expression. Rose stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently. Just to silence him, she told herself. He didn't like it when he babbled. She was doing him a favor, really.

The Doctor stood in shock, mouth stiff under hers. A heartbeat, and Rose cringed and pulled away, completely disheartened. Did she feel like Jack, now? She dropped her gaze to her slippers, and returned her heels to the floor. Her mind was racing, and she tried to keep her breathing to only a mild hyperventilation. She had to try to salvage the situation as much as possible. Stupid, impulsive, foolish!

"Rose, I, er..." The Doctor stuttered, and Rose wilted. What had she done? "I just... I don't..." He puffed out a short breath, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. His newly blue eyes. Rose could feel Jack's stare, and the words all three of them wanted to say hung thick and unsaid in the air. The nausea returned to her belly in triplicate.

The kitchen was so quiet that the Doctor's next words caused Rose to jump. "Sod it." He said, and gave her a brilliant smile. Rose snapped her head up in time to see Jack grin, and for the Doctor to grab her shoulders while still taking advantage of her surprise. He made up for his lack of response tenfold, his fingers leaving bruises in the skin of her biceps that she would treasure. His kiss was fire and water, love and longing, and she felt the force of his age and experience behind it. It was _fantastic_.

She melted into his embrace, throwing her arms around his neck and deepening their kiss, nipping gently at his bottom lip. His hands moved from her arms to her hips, squeezing the breath from her lungs in the interim. Through a happy haze of pheromones and the sound of the blood pounding in her ears, Rose could hear Jack's raucous whoop in the background. She laughed into the Doctor's mouth, causing him to respond in kind and twirl her in a circle. With a squeal, she finally had to break their kiss, gasping for breath and admiring the bitten red lips of her best friend.

"Haven't ... Got a respiratory bypass like someone else I know." She panted, smirking at the nearly-unruffled Timelord, who managed to look deliciously rumpled in a way she never had been able to pull off. She hiccoughed, another trickle of huon energy gracing the air. She blinked, and grimaced as she realized that the Doctor had yet to discover some of the less obvious effects of their journey. Would he even remember what had happened? Or did he know her the particulars of creation as intimately as she had known Jack's? Was she a blot in time for him, as well?

The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, and Rose heard the scrape of Jack pulling out his chair again. She had no energy to recount this tale again - but needs must, if he asked her.

"I just noticed something." The Doctor began, scratching his head and pulling - of all things, his brainy specs - from his pocket. He settled them on the bridge of his nose, and squinted at Rose through them. She rolled her eyes and smiled indulgently. He was such a showman, in either of the faces he had worn.

"Rose, did you know your hair is brown?" He frowned, peering intently at her through his thick-rimmed glasses.

Rose stared at him, dumbfounded. How like a man, give a girl a snog to remember and not even be able to discern her hair color until five minutes after. Blokes! All the same, even the aliens. She was just about to rake him over the coals when the corner of his mouth twitched, and the telltale sparkle of his blue eyes tipped her off.

Instead, she straightened, raising one dark eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. "And your eyes are blue." She stated with a quirk of her lips. Jack did a double take - ha! Blokes! Unobservant to the last.

The Doctor deposited his brainy specs back in his pocket, satisfied. He extended his arm, elbow crooked, towards Rose. "I suppose they are. Tea, Miss Tyler? I think it's about to get cold." The way he was looking at her gave her goose prickles. She was a starry-eyed girl again, stepping into the snow in Cardiff in 1860, and the dangerous man with the big ears and leather coat was offering her his arm. She hadn't remembered ever letting go willingly. Those same blue eyes were asking her another important question of a different magnitude, and her answer could only be yes.

Rose wound her arms through the Doctor's, and grinned. The time for explanations was later. Now was the time to simply be. Now, they would have a cup of tea, and relax. They would enjoy the time they had together - it was a gift. She allowed herself to be lead to the table, and curled herself into her familiar chair, the one closest to the stove. She smiled at Jack across the table as the Doctor's hand slid from her arm to her knee. It was so good to be home.

**Wow. This story has been such a big part of my life for months, and it's hard to finish it off. Months of writing with my thumbs on my iPhone LOL! I agonized over these final chapters, and I hope it was worth it, and that you all enjoyed the ride as much as I loved writing it! I don't think these guys are going to leave me alone - in fact, quite the opposite. Rose is already getting these three back into some trouble. I feel sure they'll let me know about it soon enough.**


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